Let Me Know Your Face
by Sapphire Warrioress
Summary: She was headstrong, proud and beautiful, a descendant of kings and the immortal gods of her people. He was a ruler by right of conquest, a being who could command the power of the tempest with effortless skill. This is their story.
1. Chapter 1 Spark of Memory

Disclaimer Inspiration for this tale is drawn from the writings of Homer and Ovid, as well as the music of the ingenious composer George Frideric Handel.

I definitely don't own anything accept my portrayals of the characters.

It was a place of shadows, where the triumphs, joys and sorrows of humanity were reduced to pale echoes of their earthly glory. Here all mortals were equal, their titles, riches and achievements all stripped from them by the hand of death. King waited with peasant, soldier stood with slave, restless; ever shifting wraiths which bore little resemblance to the mortals they had been in life.

Here, all emotion was quickly swallowed by darkness borne of torment, the knowledge that all who entered would be aware of their loss for a moment, only to be consumed by the great emptiness about them, until all knowledge of their former mortal existence was utterly forgotten save for the anguish of knowing something precious had been taken. Even that one final spark of knowing lasted for a brief instant, until nothing remained but a deep longing for something which could never be named, for even the knowledge of language was denied them. So they drifted, ever restless, tossed about on the frigid winds which constantly swirled about this place, the domain of Hades, and his consort Persephone.

Then it would begin. More alluring than a siren's call, it wove itself into the fiber of each soul with gentle relentless persistence. It was music unlike anything conceived by mortal imagination, an endless melody so rich in texture, complexity and splendor that it drew each listener into its song with merciless, inexorable power.

In that moment of surrender the dance would commence. It was a ceaseless interchange of movements so intricate and graceful that the most skilled dancer's efforts to imitate them would be fruitless. Yet it was curiously devoid of emotion, containing neither joy nor sorrow, passion or fervor. The steps could be complex and intricate, or formal and elegant, reminiscent of the dances performed at the courts of kings throughout the mortal world.

Each shade had their turn, where they would for a moment be at the center of the endless throng of dancers, and take up the position of leader. This was a dance which required no particular skill, simply total absolute surrender to the steps each performed with flawless precision at the bidding of their lord, and the guidance of the music which held all enslaved to its will.

It was a dance which could never be learned through tuition or observation. A music which could not be contained within the fragile confines of written notes, which neither human voice nor instrument could hope to capture in all its terrible unending glory. It was the song and dance of eternity. And as intended it sought to smother that ever present longing within each shade, effortlessly captivating all who were destined by the fates to share this joyless existence.

All save one.

She moved as one with the throng of shades, a slender form clothed in shadow, every gesture and step revealing her skill and familiarity with the dance. Like the others her spirit was a fading echo of what it had been in life. The dark eyes held none of the warmth and passion they had once possessed, death had reduced the glorious tangle of raven locks to limp colorless strands. Only the face revealed a glimmer of the headstrong intelligent and ambitious woman she had been, classical features still retaining the suggestion of sensuality, independence and determination that had earned her a reputation for reckless impulsive behavior.

But unlike the others she had not yet surrendered to the siren call of eternity's rhythm and music. Welcoming then rejecting the call of infinity, she fought to retain even a shred of her lost humanity, though the effort cost her much. Ever restless, her soul drifted like the countless others bound to the kingdom of Hades, but within the deepest part of her essence remained a single spark of determination. She would not be like the rest, mindless specters with no will or memories of their own, save for the music of eternity which held all in thrall. No, somehow she would reclaim all that the gods had taken; through the strength of her will she would seek to conquer the emptiness which relentlessly sought to draw her into eternity's song.

Stubbornly, caughtiously she made the first attempt. Slowly extending her senses, she tried to focus all her concentration on remembering something, anything of the person she had once been. But despite all her efforts she could sense nothing but the distant echoes of knowledge just beyond her reach.

So close, and yet so far, elusive fragments of memories and emotions which slipped from her grasp the moment they were discovered. Echoes of regret, searing pain and a great, all consuming passion tormented her spirit, moments so full of warmth and life that they drove back the siren call of eternity. A moment passed before the call again took hold, stronger, deeper and more alluring than ever.

But in that second of silence, across the barrier between the worlds of the living and the dead it had come to her. Had she still possessed the knowledge of language, she would have known the sound recalled in that brief silence was a name. And though she knew not what to call this small discovery the shade knew that it was significant.

Determinedly she looked deeper, and heard at last the echo of beloved voices.

The recollection of a name, spoken with sisterly affection. The remnants of her spirit stretched further in another attempt to grasp it, ephemeral fingers reaching desperate for this fleeting spark of memory. A futile attempt, memories however real could never be captured by the semblance of physical effort no matter how often one tried. Gathering what little strength remained she sought to draw memory towards her by the power of her will.

Once again she caught the echo of that word, spoken by another beloved voice. It brought her fresh determination to regain all that the gods had taken. If she focused what remained of her will, she could hear it again, a word identical to the one that other had spoken. But in the hands of this speaker it was transformed into something surpassing mere human utterance. First a gentle caress, then a passionate declaration, and finally a plea for understanding and a desire for reconciliation.

Who was he?

Surely she could remember his name, if the fading echo she heard had been so powerful what might it have been to know this one who spoke with the authority and confidence of a king?

The question burned within the remains of her essence, driving her to reach, to seek the memory of this lost word. Once again it eluded her grasp.

A keening wail of frustration and sorrow filled the realm of the dead, a cry so full of loss and despair that the souls newly arrived turned to look for its source; only to glance away an instant later as the nameless spirit was once again borne away into darkness.

Though much was taken after a shade entered the kingdom of Hades, each soul knew when another was about to join them, sensed their inevitable struggle against death and ultimately their surrender to the grip of eternity. Knowing another shade had succumbed to the will of the fates, the mass of specters parted as another spirit joined them. As with all newly arrived in this realm, she retained for a brief instant the form and trappings she had worn in life. Tall and graceful, clad in rich attire, one could easily see that this one was of noble birth. Next moment all that had set her apart from the other shades of the dead had faded, until she stood before them, robbed of all earthly glory and vitality.

But not before the nameless specter had seen the fading outline of brilliant fire encircling the new comers head. Spectral eyes narrowed in concentration, focusing on the faded echo of the earth's riches. Once it had graced the heads of royalty, an exquisite tiara crafted of diamonds and gold. But in this realm it was reduced to a shadow of its former beauty, and yet it reminded her of something. If she could only remember.

She lay beneath a richly embroidered canopy, filled with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, awaiting the arrival of her lover.

Then the sound of distant thunder drawing ever closer, a brilliance which no mortal eyes could hope to bear.

Her final moment, where triumph, awe, and regret were mingled with the awareness of the frailty of her mortal form.

Her attention was drawn inevitably back to the dance and song of forever. Yet now, armed with the fleeting recollection of her death she could summon the strength to resist. For beneath the echo of her final moments another memory waited, one which had been stirred by a note of eternity's music. And it was this final echo of her mortal existence which held the key to her identity. She surrendered gladly to its promise of freedom, and at last the door was opened.

Wild and elemental, terrible and glorious the recollection of music filled her senses. And she realized why the power of this song had shattered the hold of eternity's siren call. For She had known a greater music, the music of the storm, performed for her at the command of its ruler in all its untamed passionate glory. And amidst the splendor of his kingdom he had spoken that word, in a voice which had held the echo of distant thunder.

"Semele."

The name rang through her soul. This was what she had been seeking, her lost word, and the key to unlocking all that death had stolen. With that realization the last vestiges of the call were swept aside as the memories of a lifetime were restored.

There was no stopping the torrent of recollections now that they had been released.

A crown of flame rested amidst her raven tresses, the ancient symbol of a god's favor.

Moments of laughter and sorrow shared with her gentle sister.

Reckless escapades conceived in moments of desperation, futile efforts to win the love and favor of a father who cared for no one since the death of his queen.

Countless evenings of revelry and formal negotiations planned in the hopes that she would win a prince's affections.

Her wedding day, a time of mingled resentment, fury and desperate hope for a miracle.

Soaring upon the wind, joyous and triumphant, borne to safety and the promise of passion on the wings of her lover.

These and a thousand other recollections filled the princess's mind, overwhelming her spirit with an emotion which for an instant she could not name. A moment passed before she recalled the word. Triumph.

It gave her the strength to resist eternity's call, lent her the courage to lift her head defiantly, proudly, as befitted a descendent of royalty.

Once again the sea of specters shifted, placing her at the center of the dance. And although the steps she performed mirrored the movements of countless souls, within the core of her being she guarded the knowledge won by the rekindled flame of remembrance, and the strength of her will.

She was Semele, daughter of Cadmus, once beloved of Jupiter, and by all the gods she would not rest until she had regained every memory which had been taken.

Note from the authoress: To those familiar with the story of Semele, this tale will not be what you expect due to me using a number of different sources. I'm drawing on the plot and music of the opera Semele, composed by George Frideric Handel in 1744 and the libretto written by William Congreve and will use the text and music as the basic framework for my retelling of this legend. I'm also incorporating elements from Ovid's Metamorphosis and the writings of Homer, and of course my own ideas as to how this story will ultimately end. The title of this story comes from the musical Phantom, composed by Kopit and Yeston.

I hope you enjoy the story and look forward to reading any comments, as this is my first time posting my writing online and I'm rather nervous about sharing this.


	2. Chapter 2 Reluctant Bride

Semele daughter of Cadmus paced the length of her chamber in a state of helpless fury and frustration. Mentally she hurled curses at the fates, that intended to entwine her destiny with that of prince Athamas on the morrow. For a few moments she enjoyed herself attempting to think of a list of the most

unflattering adjectives that could describe the suitor her father had

chosen. Weak, dull, boring, unintelligent, and infuriating, became the

beginning of a rapidly growing list.

To be sure, he had offered convincing speeches and rich gifts to her father when seeking her hand in marriage. Perhaps, if he had been amongst the first 3 princes, she might have

seriously considered his proposal. But after 6 had come and gone, with

their empty words of flattery, chests of treasure and offers of land, Semele

had lost interest in the proceedings.

They were all the same. Rich men with titles that had been earned through inheritance, instead of their own effort. Some were young, others more experienced, but each sought a woman of noble birth to ornament their household, provide sexual favors, and bare sons to carry on the royal line. This was what awaited her. After tomorrow, she would be queen of Beotia.

How many ordinary girls longed to be a princess thought that they would enjoy the many luxuries and trappings of royalty? If they only knew the cost, the price demanded of all destined by the fates to be born into a royal family.

Would they still desire wealth and the life of a princess, if they knew of the struggle to keep a mask of calm and regal dignity forever in place? Probably. Semele was realistic enough to know that many would think the privileges far outweighed the demands of duty.

Servants sent to ask if the princess required any assistance or sustenance

were curtly dismissed, with the order that none were to disturb her until

morning. They obeyed reluctantly, unwilling to risk offending a woman who was more than capable of seeing that they receive punishment should they displease her in any way.

All of the necessary preparations and rituals had been completed, according

to tradition and the laws given by the gods. Semele had automatically

slipped into the role of bride, performing each expected task with the grace

and dignity befitting her rank as a princess. Yet it had not gone

unremarked amongst the palace servants, that their princess showed none of

the usual emotions of joy or excitement before her wedding.

None could fault her for her adherence to custom, each sacrifice had been

Performed. To Artemis, a treasured toy and lock of raven hair had been offered. The prayers to Juno had been made in the hope that she would bless their marriage. And amidst the congratulations of courtiers, slaves, and the feverish

preparations for the wedding, Semele had remained calm and dignified.

Only Ino, her sister saw beneath the mask of cool indifference, ritual words and gestures. Saw a sister struggling to contain an

ever growing fury, resentment, and crushing despair.

Cadmus reacted, as Semele knew he would with anger, and frustration. The memory of their recent conversation caused her dark eyes to burn with a look of triumphant exaltation. It was the look of a warrior after winning a great victory over an enemy who had troubled him for far too long.

"By the gods, girl, you look as if you're preparing for a funeral instead of

your own wedding." She had struggled to suppress the urge to laugh aloud at

the truth of this remark. He could not know how accurately he had summarized the turmoil within her soul. Nor could he hope to understand her sorrow, for after the third day of feasting and celebrations she would say farewell to her close friend and sister.

Her father's next comment had nearly made her lose what little composure she still possessed. "It's a thousand pities you couldn't have been more like Agave, or Autone. At least they were content with their chosen husbands and their weddings were a great success."

Semele let the familiar words flow over her, attempting to compose her features into an expression of polite interest. She had heard this speech a hundred times, by now she could probably recite the so called virtues of the siblings her father had always favored more than herself and Ino.

Daughters of the late queen of Thebes, Agave and Autone had always had the favor of Cadmus. Unlike Semele and Ino, they had embraced the expected role of a princess and all that meant, never seeking or desiring anything else accept to fulfill their duties to their kingdom. Thus had the children of Cadmus become divided. Two followed the expected way of women born to royalty; and two sought the paths to their destinies in the hope that they would not share the fates of their sisters.

How could he sit there and lecture her about the expected behavior of royalty, when she had completed all of the wedding preparations according to the law? Dear gods, couldn't he see that she was making every effort to live up to his high expectations? How could he even think she approved his choice for a husband?

Semele suspected that her father had chosen Athamas for her because he was an unimaginative, formal slave to the customs and beliefs of their society. Fresh anger welled up within Semele as these thoughts formed within her keen mind. Her father knew perfectly well that she craved the affections of a man who understood her love of knowledge, power, and could accept her eccentric ways.

Semele was so absorbed in her own thoughts that her father's shouted question made her let out a startled gasp. "Well? Have you nothing to say daughter?"

She couldn't help it. The words were out before she could hold them back, delivered with all the force of the swiftest and deadliest of arrows. "What you really mean, is that they always obeyed your every order and never thought to question your judgment. Is that not so, my king and royal father?"

Cadmus glared at his eldest daughter, unable to deny the truth of her statement. And yet he could not help but admire her knowledge of court etiquette, and her unquestionable skill with the formal language of nobility. He was not the only one to have experience with this useful talent his daughter possessed. Many a courtier had come to fear and respect their princess, for her skill in concealing words of condemnation or affront beneath carefully chosen phrases of formality.

For the thousandth time he wondered why the gods had chosen to give him such difficult children. It was true that Semele was a proud and beautiful girl, and in many ways the crowning glory of his ancient house. Yet her headstrong nature, and reckless behavior often made him wish Agave and Autonoe had been his only children. Then he would have been spared the trouble of dealing with the passionate, outspoken Semele, and the constant reminder of his beloved wife which confronted him whenever he looked into the face of Ino.

Some expression must have given away his thoughts, if the scornful look Semele gave him was any indication. He had made no secret of his affection for the daughters who had brought honor and prosperity to his house by their successful marriages.

The memory of the confrontation with her father only made Semele all the more determined to find some way of thwarting his expectations. And so she fought. Her battleground the labyrinthine corridors of her mind, sought to slay the customs and expectations forced upon her with a sword crafted of hardened words, forged in the fires of her rage.

She could not remember a time when she had not felt smothered by the laws and customs of her people, she had tried to find a way to stand against the constant pressure of the

expectations of her father and kingdom. And so the impassive mask of a princess had become her armor, her keen mind became a blade as sharp as a sword, and she wielded both with all the skill and ferocity of the accomplished warrior. For in the end it

was all she had.

And now, on the evening before her wedding, momentarily free from the stifling attentions of servants, the empty platitudes of courtiers, and the watchful gaze of her father, the battle still raged within. Resentment warred against duty, fury with resignation, despair with unreasoning hope, as she tried to think of a way to avoid or delay the inevitable.

_Note from the authoress: Originally this chapter and the next were combined, but after a few reviewers pointed out that it was too long I decided to go back and shorten this section a bit._

_Thanks for reading._


	3. Chapter 3 A Sister's Comfort

Semele's frantic musings were interrupted by the knock at her door. It was familiar, a series of raps which conveyed so much more than a request for entry. How often, Semele reflected had it been so in the past? Over the years she had lost count of the times she would hear that quiet gentle tap at her door, followed by the hushed request for

admittance.

She did not need to ask who wanted her at this hour, for the knock had identified the speaker as her sister Ino.

The ritual had begun in childhood, borne of a desire to escape the watchful eyes of their nurse and father, and the need for a secret, something which they alone could share. Each rap was unique in its strength, sequence of taps and variations of length, conveying a message only the two sisters could decipher. One message had become two, then four, until between them Semele and Ino had devised a language all their own.

And now on the eve of her wedding, Semele knew that Ino had chosen their old tradition to assure her of her continuing support and affection.

"Semele? Are you awake?"

"Come in Ino, I've been awake for hours." The words were terse, and if a

stranger had heard them he might have assumed the princess did not desire

her sisters company this night. But beneath the harsh tone, Ino could hear

anxiety held in check by an iron will, mingled with frustration and a

desperation to escape the morrow's festivities.

Princess Ino was dark haired like her elder sibling, but unlike Semele her face reflected a gentle and thoughtful character, combined with a quiet dignity and strength.

Semele, headstrong, impulsive and confident, possessed a keen mind and a will as strong as iron. Yet for all their differences, the sisters shared a close friendship. Both

were descendants of ancient kings, and it was said the immortal gods of their

people. Semele brought to the house of Cadmus, a passion and strength of will seldom seen in those of royal blood. Ino, proud and gracious, displayed moments of wisdom and insight far beyond her years. Semele often thought that the closeness she shared with her sister was like that of twins.

If only it were Ino, instead of her about to be given in marriage. How different it would have been then. She would have been able to assist in preparing

her younger sister for the rites and ceremonies the gods required, give Ino her opinion of the prince or nobleman her father had selected. Instead, it was she who was about to be given in marriage, to a man who would bring her neither joy nor love. She was also certain that he would only accord her the respect due her as his wife and queen. He would never appreciate her thirst for knowledge, or match her in a battle of wits. All this and more she had quickly discerned during her first meeting with the prince her father had chosen.

"He is wealthy," Ino commented as though she had read her sisters' thoughts. "And his alliance with our father's kingdom will strengthen our relations with Beotia."

You sound like a royal councilor." The eldest daughter of Cadmus regarded

her sister with amusement. "And since when do you care for what father

wants?"

"It's hard to care for a father who blames you for the death of his wife." Ino's tone was bitter, a striking contrast to her gentle voice and attitude of quiet dignity.

For an instant Semele's dark eyes were ablaze with fury as she recalled the scathing comments and cold looks Ino had received from their father over the years.

"I know," Slender fingers grasped her sister's shoulder, seeking to convey comfort and affection through this simple gesture.

"He dishonors her memory by refusing to speak of her, especially to you. He never used to be this way Ino, before our mother's death he was so different, more affectionate. Mother always knew how to calm him whenever he flew into a rage. But now--"Her voice trailed away into silence.

"Sometimes I think he wishes I'd never been born. You're the daughter he is so anxious to see married well." There was no resentment or censure in the

words, merely a quiet acceptance of the truths just spoken.

Semele gazed fondly at her sister, recalling the many occasions she had come to her defense. Often she had fought for her sister when Ino would rather avoid confrontation, calling her king and father cruel and unforgiving before the lords and nobles of his court without the least remorse. And yet she understood why he acted thus, whenever Ino failed to live up to his high expectations. Cadmus, grieving over the death of his queen, had been all too ready to blame his youngest daughter for her death. Semele also thought his harsh treatment of Ino could be explained by the strong resemblance she bore to their mother. To her, as well as Cadmus, Ino's gentle nature, serenity and striking looks were a constant reminder of Thebes' queen.

Semele had deeply mourned the loss of her mother, but unlike her father she had learned to treasure the few memories she possessed, and later shared them with Ino, in the hope that their mother would be remembered and honored

"You look so much like her," Semele's voice was distant as she recalled early memories of her childhood. "And I know you might not believe me, gods know he's never spoken of it, but he did love our mother deeply. But that's no reason for our father to ignore your

existence."

Seeing the pain these memories evoked, Ino tried to distract Semele through talk of the approaching nuptials

"Is everything ready for tomorrow? You haven't forgotten anything?" Ino couldn't help thinking that Semele had enough trouble reconciling herself to this marriage; she couldn't risk offending any of the gods.

"Don't worry. I've sacrificed to all the gods, and made all of the appropriate requests." Although, Semele thought, they must know that I'm only performing all the expected rituals because I don't want to offend them. Perhaps a miracle will occur and our marriage will be blessed.

Reluctantly her thoughts returned to Athamas, and the duty she was expected to perform on the morrow. Fresh resentment and hopelessness welled up within her. Desperately she tried to compose her features, concealing the turmoil of her thoughts beneath a mask of calm indifference. Unfortunately, Ino was not fooled.

"You do not love him."

"Ino, he's the type of ruler who will never break tradition. He'll rule his kingdom as his ancestors have before him; never consider the possibility that there are other ways to govern."

"What's wrong with that?"

Semele sighed in exasperation. "He is one of the most boring and unimaginative people I've had the misfortune to meet. If you ask me, he'd be more comfortable ruling a smaller kingdom, maybe an island nation. Then he could govern easily. But his father's kingdom is large, and when he becomes king, I'll have to follow his example when ruling. I doubt he even knows much about his people either."

And you "do?" There was laughter in Ino's voice.

"Have you forgotten our escapades outside the palace?"

"How could I, you may Remember that incident in the market? Where you got into an argument with that merchant."

"Yes, and I enjoyed it immensely."

"Semele, telling him that you wouldn't give his apples to a horse, let alone a princess wasn't the best retort."

"I was only 10, what did you expect?"

The sister's laughter trailed off into silence as they recalled similar childhood memories. Unspoken between them, lay the knowledge that each reckless venture had been conceived out of a desire to gain their fathers attention. Each effort had been met with stern lectures on the conduct of royalty before their people, and reprimands concerning any future repetitions of such behavior.

As she grew older, Semele's feelings of resentment at the treatment she and her sister received had turned to a slowly burning anger. No longer was she content with simply shielding Ino from the worst of her father's insults, or calmly ignoring the constant pressure he placed upon her to sacrifice all for the sake of duty.

Fury had cooled into a calculating ruthlessness, a desire to prove her worth and knowledge to a father who tried to forget her existence.

She was well aware of the low regard in which women no matter their birth were held, and so she sought to use this to her advantage. She had watched and listened to the talk of servants and courtiers, and through them learned much about the politics and governing of a kingdom. She had seen how the desire for power had bred corruption within the court, sometimes leading to the taking of a life. And when she had learned all she could about her kingdom, its strengths, faults and weaknesses, Semele took her first ambitious steps, knowing that many would underestimate her due to her sex. It was exactly what she wanted.

And so she had carefully chosen men close to her father in counsel. Her quest for knowledge was made all the easier, by the fact that they never suspected her purpose. To them, she was their princess, a beautiful and innocent young woman. One of them had become her lover, and a valuable source of information in her quest for knowledge. He could not know that the seemingly innocent questions asked after the love games were over were Semele's way of learning as much as possible about the inner workings of a kingdom, things she could never learn through court gossip.

She had resorted to these methods, in the hope that Cadmus would realize that she would no longer endure his treatment, that she was as ambitious and passionate as he.

And in a sense she had succeeded. Some called her ungovernable, others eccentric, helping Semele to earn a reputation that kept many suitors from coming to the court of Thebes.

All had gone as she hoped, until the arrival of Athamas, with his empty words of praise, offers of wealth and an alliance with his kingdom in exchange for the hand of Cadmus's eldest daughter.

Semele understood why her father had so eagerly accepted this prince's offer on her behalf, but that didn't mean she had to calmly accept her fate.

And so she had performed each duty admirably, knowing that her attitude of cool indifference would infuriate her father, and if she was lucky discourage the attentions of Beotia's prince.

All of her attempts had failed, and Cadmus had summoned her before him to ask that she show gratitude and enthusiasm for her approaching wedding. Semele had left the throne room triumphant and victorious, knowing that for the moment she had won. Yet she still respected and feared her father, for like it or not he was still the king, a ruler who governed with an iron control that was frankly terrifying. And although she had deliberately tested the limits of his patience almost beyond endurance in the past, Semele knew that whenever she challenged him on the morrow she must tread carefully.

Ino's voice brought her back to the present with a start.

"Perhaps, you're destined for something else." The comment was so unexpected, even welcome that Semele turned to look at her sister sharply.

"Have you seen something, something concerning my marriage?" The inquiry

was sharp, almost desperate.

Ino shook her head. "No, it's more a feeling," she paused searching for the

correct words. "A deep sense of conviction, that something is going to happen, that you are destined for something greater."

Semele leant forward, eager and curious for any further details.

"Anything else?"

Her sister nodded reluctantly. "I wish I could explain it clearly, but I can't

shake this feeling that something terrible will befall you soon. But with it comes the knowledge of great joy and fulfillment, that you are somehow fated to be a part of something beyond mortal understanding."

Some would have ridiculed Ino's vague prophecies of tragedy and joy.

Semele did not. She knew that her sister was sometimes

granted these visions of things to come, vague impressions of the

possibilities the fates wove into a mortal's destiny. Her explanation and relation of such knowledge were too sincere and genuine for Semele to suppose them the workings of a fertile imagination.

Many in Thebes would have automatically dismissed the prophecies of their youngest princess, stating that visions were matters for the priests or oracles alone. But Semele had always privately thought that unlike mortals, the gods did not consider only those who were given oracular training worthy of receiving gifts of prophecy. Surely, it would make their endless existence more intriguing, if they did not conform to the expectations of their mortal worshipers.

Stillness surrounded the sisters as they pondered the meaning of this vision. It was the quiet of two people who needed no meaningless chatter to fill it, but were content to sit in companionable silence.

"I should go, you'll need all the rest you can get for tomorrow."

Semele nodded distractedly, inclining her head slightly towards the door in a silent request for her sister to depart.

Sensing that Semele wanted to be alone, Ino offered her sister an encouraging smile as she took her leave.

Closing the door softly, Semele reflected bitterly that there was nothing

she could do to prevent the wedding. Yet her sister's prophetic words kept running through her mind.

What did Ino's vision mean?

Did it offer the enticing possibility of freedom?

No, she was fated to marry the prince of Beotia.

Unless.

The eldest princess of Thebes sat still, frozen with the sheer daring of the idea

that had just occurred to her. Half remembered fragments of tales, phrases she had memorized in preparation for the morrows ceremony rushed through her

thoughts.

Was it even possible?

Could she even gather the courage to take such a bold step in the hopes of delaying the wedding?

What of the consequences for Ino, her father, her people?

Long after Ino's departure, Semele lay awake, rehearsing again and again the plan she had formulated. Carefully she once again went over her part in the wedding ceremonies, wondering when the right time would be for her plan to be enacted. It would have to be before her vows to Athamas, when the priests were requesting favorable omens from the gods. It would not be easy to keep her intentions hidden from everyone in attendance.

Perhaps the answer to her dilemma lay in subtle deception, in playing for a few hours the role of an anxious bride. She could not feign affection for Athamas, and her attitude of cool indifference was too well known throughout the court of Cadmus for her to attempt a convincing pretence.

She must think of a plausible excuse, perhaps if she fretted over the rituals she had performed, delayed the priests with questions concerning her place in the wedding procession. It wouldn't be unusual for the bride to worry over such details, and would definitely be an explanation her father and Athamas would accept for the delay In the proceedings.

It would take much thought and preparation, but the princess was confident that at least part of her scheme would work. As for the remainder, that would depend on the fates.

It was a desperate plan, but at this point she was willing to risk everything in this final attempt to escape a marriage not of her own choosing.

Tomorrow she would proceed to Juno's temple, stand before the sacred image, and hope that the consequences for her rash plan would be on her head alone.

Note from the authoress: Thanks to the people who have reviewed so far, I appreciate your encouraging comments.

I hope this chapter wasn't too long, detailed or boring, right now I'm taking a lot of artistic license, trying to develop some of the main characters and their relationships, according to the little Handel has provided through his music and libretti, Ovid through his poetry, and my knowledge of classical mythology concerning Semele and Ino's history. According to Handel's music and the libretti, the sisters shared a close relationship, so I thought I'd develop that idea, as it's essential to the plot of the opera, and my own plans for this story.

Semele's character, as portrayed by Kathleen Battle in the recording I own, comes across as headstrong, devious, and sensual, an ambitious and determined character. So I'm using Battle's interpretation as the basis for my version of Semele, I hope it's believable and realistic.

If you're wondering why Athamas is such a dull character so far, I'm basing him on Handel's portrayal once again. This prince spends most of the first act moping around, wondering why Semele doesn't even acknowledge his existence, although to be fair, it must be frustrating when you end up with a bride who is doing everything possible to put off the wedding.

Also my apologies to anyone who is well versed in classical history and mythology, if my characterizations or observations on Greek culture are inaccurate. My research comes from the sources already mentioned, as well as a few university courses on Greek and Roman history.

Next chapter I start incorporating the plot of Act 1 from Handel's opera Semele.

If anyone would like to comment on dialogue I'd love feedback, as that's the most difficult thing for me to write.

Also apologies for the delay on this chapter. Things have been busy this summer, and as this story is more complex than other things I've posted, I'm taking my time in getting each chapter written.

I'm picky when it comes to writing and research for a story that is drawn from a number of sources, but I will finish this tale eventually, though updates may be slow in coming do to university and life in general being busy.

So for everyone wondering what Semele's plan is, sorry, but I'll have to keep you in suspense a while longer.

Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4 Eternity's Price

From his throne he gazed down upon the world of men, a fierce penetrating look which no mortal eyes could hope to endure.

Darkness cloaked his empire, broken only by the crystal fire of starlight and the silver radiance of the moon.

The form he had assumed for what lay ahead was tall and commanding, one which would have made a powerful impression at the court of any king on earth. Yet beneath the semblance of mortal flesh veiled even from immortal sight lay the true deity. Even his queen did not know his true face, or the depth of the power which was his alone to command.

Nor did any on Olympus know of the exhaustion which had long ago claimed the soul of their king. Indeed he took care that none should ever glimpse the truth, that there was nothing in the immortal realm which could stop the flow of thoughts that would not let him rest. He was so weary of it all. The endless unchanging flow of eternity, where little occurred to amuse or slake his thirst for something, anything to mark the passage of centuries.

In spite of endless strength, power and the highest place among the gods, he had never discovered the one thing which could bring him joy. And so eternity had continued on, relentless, unchanging and stifling. Yes there were the duties he was expected to perform, the careful use of power and the pleasure of receiving the sacrifices and prayers mortals offered up in his name.

When it had happened he did not know, but there came a moment when he had turned to the mortal world for an answer. What had led him to look there he could never afterwards recall. Perhaps it was the need to find something unique to satisfy this unfulfilled longing, or the increasing number of thoughtless petitions which mortals had been sending for what they considered the greatest and most illusive thing of all. Their songs and tales were filled with this common thread, one which countless bards and musicians never tired of repeating.

The quests of heroes, eager to receive the gift of immortality. Many a passing thought, framed in ignorance and foolish desire had been carried to him upon the wind. Words spoken in moments of passion, joy and triumph, strengthened by the invocation of his name, had lent them power and the right to be formed within his mind. Let this moment endure forever. May this victory be remembered for centuries.

How often when such fragile prayers were formed had he longed to answer with words of scorn or condemnation. To say that if they truly knew what it was they desired, then mortals would learn to be content with the time the fates had ordained. But he had learned enough of mortal desires over the centuries, to know that even if he had answered such frivolous petitions with outright rejection or silence humanity would always strive to attain the impossible.

He was not the only deity who sought to grasp and comprehend the unending current of forever. All immortals sensed even sought to tame the relentless flow of eternity, but none ever fought against the siren urge to surrender, to resist the temptation to ignore, question or seek to struggle against the insistent pull of the inevitable. He had been content to let its current take him where it would for untold centuries, never wanting or needing anything to alter his course.

But there had come a moment when he became aware of something stirring within the core of his essence, and though he tried hard to ignore it in the end it would not be denied. Then his eyes had been drawn to the mortal world. He saw how they lived, each life no more than the slightest breath of wind, or the brief flicker of a flame to his eyes. Yet each mortal life was filled with vitality, a desire to attain glory and leave an honorable legacy for the next generation to treasure. To a mortal each moment was precious, each triumph and sorrow a living experience to be reveled in and savored like the finest of wines.

There was none of that tenacity and thirst for any immortal being to experience. Instead each god or goddess seemed content with their place on Olympus, only turning to mortals when in need of amusement. . These moments of reflection had led to the birth of something within his essence, a hunger which no power or wonder of the immortal realm could assuage. And as he watched he began to long afresh for the passion and strength of the human spirit to become a part of his existence.

And that desire had led to thoughts of a being he had long considered an enemy. The surprising realization that Prometheus had surpassed the gods in his insight into the human race. For by gifting them with fire, he had helped to lift them from their simple lives, offered humanity the chance to learn and flourish as never before. In that moment of realization he thrice damned Prometheus for his choice to gift men with the sacred fire of Olympus.

And yet he understood what had prompted that decision. For how had he or any other deity used such a mighty tool before Prometheus's choice? With the exception of Vulcan, all under his rule saw fire as something to which only immortals had a right. Mortals had used it, harnessed its power to create and nurture.

But still he cursed the day that gift had been given. For if it had never been bestowed he would not now feel this great emptiness and desolation. It had driven him to seek, to use every power at his command to discover and satisfy this craving which remained a constant awareness beneath the flow of his existence.

And so he had descended from Olympus, to walk amongst mortals in constant search of something he could not name. He had taken his pleasure with many women, reveled in their beauty and grace, only to cast each aside when they did not fulfill the void within. Each conquest had been different, his approach and seduction planned as carefully as a general devises a strategy to ensure the victory of his warriors. Courtier, soldier, prince, these and a thousand other forms he had taken. Close observation of the mortal world, not the squandering of power which could be used for far more appropriate things had assured him every conquest, and he had enjoyed each to the full.

But still he sought, knowing that his fellow Olympians often visited the mortal world for amusement, but without truly understanding what it was they were desiring.

Even he had not yet discovered the answer, until one evening when he entered the city of Thebes, and met the princess whose wedding he was to approve on the morrow.

Semele.

She of all Cadmus's house was most glorious, most passionate, a unique and intelligent woman who deserved so much more than she was receiving. He had met her only once, and yet the memory of that brief encounter had remained with him, one of the few moments of interest which shattered the monotony of his existence. In Semele he had discovered half of the answer he was seeking. He desired someone who loved and followed the siren call of power. But deeper still ran the need for a consort who would not just desire, but learn to revel in all he would offer, instead of calmly accepting each gift with haughty arrogance.

Resolutely he forced himself to think only of the work ahead. For discerning the workings of fate was no easy task, one which would require all of his concentration and skill to perform on the morrow.

And before he could prevent it all that he had sought and desired for so long poured forth. Thoughts born of desire and the hope that he might in this mortal princess discover the way to quench the longing which had driven him to the mortal world again and again.

May the omens I read on the morrow speak against this joining.

May she be meant for another who can bring her joy and fulfillment.

Let her not be destined for Athamas, but for me.

_Note from the authoress: Hello to all of you reading this story. Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but life has been busy and this story was really giving me trouble._

_I meant to start incorporating elements of Handel's version of Semele into this chapter, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get anything written._

_Sorry to anyone wanting more from Semele, I hope to go back to Thebes in the next chapter, and she will of course play a huge part in this story._

_Where this chapter came from, I'm not quite sure, but once I got started I really began to enjoy writing from the point of view of Jupiter._

_I'm sticking to the Roman names for the gods as that's what Handel did for his opera, probably because they are easier to sing._

_I love receiving feedback for my writing, and as this is the most complicated story I've posted and I'm curious about what you the _readers_ think reviews are always welcome._


	5. Chapter 5 Behind The Mask

_Note from the authoress: Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews. I appreciate each comment and the time you all took to write your thoughts on this story._

_This chapter is written from the perspective of Juno, or Hera if you prefer the Greek name instead._

_In Handel's opera she doesn't make a vocal appearance until Act 2, nor does Jupiter. So these last couple of chapters have been my attempt to introduce their characters into the story, before getting into the plot of Act 1, which opens on the day of Semele's wedding._

_As always feedback is appreciated._

_Thanks for reading. _

She had known this day would come since the first offerings and prayers had been spoken in her honor. With cool indifference she had listened to the prince of Beotia beg that Semele would return his love and grace him with strong sons. Amusement had briefly been kindled within her essence as she heard the petitions of the daughter of Cadmus. Their had been no joy or expectation in the words, simply a dignity and practiced reverence which any priestess would have been proud to offer her goddess.

And if there was one thing which Juno queen of heaven appreciated, it was dignity and the respect every mortal owed her as queen. And yet beneath that calm and unruffled surface, was a goddess filled with resentment and hatred for the ruling house of Thebes. How dare this girl offer up prayers for prosperity and joy, when her very existence made a mockery of the queen of the gods. Countless mortal girls had spoken the same ritual phrases, and yet none of them had ever angered her as much as these recent petitions from the princess of Thebes.

Despite the fact that Semele had given each word no more than the expected reverence, not bothering to hide in each thought the contempt and cool indifference she felt for Beotia's prince, Juno resented and loathed the daughter of Cadmus. It was a bitterness she had carefully cultivated over countless centuries, until it had not only cloaked her essence but any form she chose to assume. And like a skilled mortal artisan she had shaped it into an impenetrable shield, armoring herself against every indiscretion her consort and brother had reveled in, smothering all humiliation and pain at his betrayal beneath its layers of protection. In time, she became known throughout the mortal realm for her hatred of all the women her consort had loved.

And yet no tale or song could truly give voice to the cruelty and darkness of which the queen of heaven was capable. It had always been a part of her, ever since the bloody battle with the Titans for the right to rule the mortal world. She had fought side by side with her fellow Olympians, reveled in the freedom to use her power without restraint and the thrill of the final victory.

And she had been drawn to Jupiter by the bright flame of his power, as he ended the rule of Saturn, and smoothly took up the reins of kingship over the universe.

For 3 mortal centuries she had skillfully eluded his advances, only allowing herself to be claimed when she knew he could offer her the mantle of queen and the right to rule at his side. She had taken her place with pleasure, accepting her role as consort and monarch with haughty arrogance and the belief that she of all goddesses was destined to wield such power. But unlike her consort she had been content with her lot, never seeking as he had to gain more knowledge or influence.

It had been his first mortal conquest which had kindled the fires of vengeance, cruelty and bitterness within her essence. Fury, hatred and malevolence became the emotions she craved to give her existence meaning, helped her to forget the fresh pain of each betrayal whenever Jupiter took another mortal lover. Never once did she think of reconciliation, though mortals had long ago cast her as a goddess who oversaw the fates of those joined in marriage. For to do so would require that she sacrifice her pride and dignity, open her soul to all that was Jupiter.

And that was a path she shrank from walking. For even she, his consort knew little of the power he commanded, or the secrets he carefully guarded deep within the core of his essence. Indeed she suspected that no immortal being could ever look upon the true face of Jupiter without being scorched by the sheer power he effortlessly wielded. She had tasted that power on the night of their joining, and though he had chosen to come to her in his immortal form she had suspected that he had veiled his true glory from even her keen eyes.

A part of her resented the strength of that suspicion. Was she not his queen?

Didn't she alone deserve the right to know the true face of her king?

Hadn't she fought at his side in the war for the universe?

And yet deep within her she knew the truth. Though she possessed great power, she could not hope to comprehend the immensity of her consort's knowledge and influence. Nor could she hope to ever become his equal in power or glory, for the simple reason that it was not her birthright to carry such responsibility.

Over the centuries of her existence, she had caught many glimpses of the power her husband commanded, and knew that even she would be unable to withstand its full weight if Jupiter allowed her to share in the sight of his glory unveiled. She was a goddess who commanded with ruthless precision all that was hers by birthright, wielding her power with a control which many an immortal deity envied.

Her brother and husband was restless, a being driven to seek something she could not grasp though her intellect was formidable. She knew only his passion and fury, and both were as wild and untamable as the storms it was his right to command. And so she fought against the truth and the pain by pouring out her anger on the mortals her king preferred to her embrace.

In the secret depths of her mind, she devised a thousand torments for any mortal woman who had ever captured his interest.

And Cadmus's house had long ago earned her wroth. For the firstborn of that line had been a son of Jupiter and the princess Europa. She refused to let the hatred she bore the ruling house of Thebes die, for it was one of the emotions which gave her existence a purpose.

And so when Semele had offered up the expected prayers for a fruitful marriage, Juno swore that she would do all she could to make the princess regret ever invoking her name. For though Semele had addressed the queen of heaven with great respect and reverence, Juno was not deceived. Despite all her efforts, Semele could not conceal her true thoughts from the queen of the gods. Juno had easily glimpsed the truth of Semele's thoughts, secretly laughed at the girl's attempts to appear pious.

If it were not for the fact that she resented Cadmus and his offspring, Juno might have admired the daring it took to boldly offer the ritual prayers with that combination of reverence and controlled fury. But her hatred for mortals had become an integral part of her essence, and she could not have relinquished it even if that choice had been offered. And so she sat enthroned at the right of her consort, to await the coming of Eos, the ritual sacrifice, and the omens the fates would present which would determine the destinies of a princess and her betrothed.


	6. Chapter 6 Semele's Request

The high clear notes of the lark's song drew Semele from a restless sleep at dawn. For a moment she lay still, relishing the silence of the palace, preparing herself to carry out the plan she had concocted the evening before. Briefly she considered requesting the aid of Venus, but found herself unable to form a coherent prayer.

So instead she let the memory of her mother's face fill her thoughts, recalled a myriad of comforting memories as her strength for what she was about to do. And in the secret places of her soul she begged the shade of Thebes's queen to bless her daughter's efforts, for she had also known like countless other women the fear, helplessness and bitter resignation of being given to a man without being offered a choice.

Thus armed with the strength of Mnemosyne and the knowledge that today her destiny would be decided, Semele rose and called for her slaves to help her prepare.

Within an hour she was ready. She had been clad in an exquisitely embroidered peplos, and her raven hair had been woven into an intricate braid secured by jeweled combs atop her head. Throughout it all Semele sat quietly, content to listen to the chatter of her servants and offer an occasional comment on their work. Only when the ceremonial veil was brought forward was her interest aroused. Slender fingers reached out to caress its fabric, marveling at the texture and delicacy of the material.

"Highness, everything is ready." Semele smiled warmly at Arianna, a slave girl who had served her since childhood who she counted a trusted friend. It had been Arianna who had kept watch while Semele and Ino had their adventures outside the palace, run to warn them when they were in danger of being discovered by their father or other slaves. Arianna who had found a way out of the palace skillfully concealed behind a tapestry, making it possible for Semele and Ino to come and go in secret.

"Princess, your father also sent you this." Arianna came forward holding out an intricately carved box. Semele took it carefully, wondering what on earth her father had sent. It was not often that she received a gift from Cadmus. She recognized the box, as one of many meant for jewels kept in safety within the palace. Whatever this object was, she knew it was only to be loaned to her as a symbol of the wealth and power of her house.

There was only one piece of jewelry kept in the royal treasury which her father would consider worth lending his daughter for her wedding. Her two eldest sisters had also received it on the morning of their marriages. A moment later her guess was proven right, as she removed the lid.

Wrapped in a finely embroidered cloth lay a necklace which had once belonged to her mother. Despite her worries over the approaching ceremony, Semele could not help staring at this precious family heirloom in wonder. Carefully she lifted the necklace from its wrappings, turning it so that it caught the morning light. Fashioned in the shape of two intertwining serpents, detailed in beautifully wrought gold, it was adorned with pearls, sapphires and emeralds.

Semele knew little of its history, apart from the fact that it was said to be a gift from the gods to her mother on the occasion of her wedding. Made by the god Vulcan, it was said to keep the one who wore it forever young and beautiful. There were also family legends which said that the necklace bore a terrible curse. Semele had always scoffed at that idea, knowing that many a noble family had a history of tragedy and that much of it was the work of their own choices not divine retribution.

Carefully unfastening the golden clasp, Semele let the necklace rest against her throat, welcoming its cool reassuring weight.

With the memory of her mother strong in her mind, and the knowledge that Ino would be close to offer support, Semele swept from the room.

Ino met her in the palace courtyard, paused for a moment to offer a look of encouragement before taking her place in the royal procession.

Athamas approached his betrothed, admiration and exasperation clear in every line of his aristocratic features. For a moment Semele faltered, knowing that she was as much at fault as the prince for their strained relationship. She had always been courteous, treating him as she had the other suitors who had come to request her hand in marriage. She could not pretend friendship or affection for Beotia's prince, and wasn't about to make the attempt now.

So she merely offered Athamas a quick respectful curtsy, before taking her place in the procession.

It had taken Alexandros son of Hector many years of study before he had been given the position of high priest. Many of his duties he enjoyed save for the role he was expected to perform in preparing a bride for her part in the wedding rituals. Many listened to his explanation of the ceremony with barely controlled impatience, or a preoccupation which he assumed meant they were thinking of either their betrothed or the preparations reserved for the women of the household.

But in Semele he had found an eager listener, attentive and intelligent, often asking a question or making an insightful comment which had prompted many a lively debate.

It had been during one of her visits to the temple that Semele had asked a question which was to become the foundation upon which she built her hopes for escaping her joining. She had questioned Alexandros closely concerning the source of the gods' power, and if they were obligated to help a mortal based on the ties of blood or kinship. He had told her all he knew.

Knowledge of the immortal realm was scarce and only discovered by priests or priestesses who possessed strong gifts in interpreting omens sent from Olympus. According to legend, and the knowledge gained through his training, Alexandros had replied that if a god remembered and honored that fragile connection to the mortal realm, there would always be a price for any aid that the deity chose to give.

Now as he waited for the royal procession to arrive, Alexandros wondered not for the first time what was destined by The Moirae for this headstrong daughter of Cadmus. He had to admire her creativity, for never before had he met a bride with so many excuses and reasons to delay her joining. If the situation had not been so serious, he would have laughed. Semele was a passionate and headstrong girl, and he could only wonder how long it would take before Cadmus lost his temper.

10 minutes passed before Cadmus drew Semele aside.

Daughter, this has gone on long enough. Both Athamas and I ask that you stop delaying the ceremony.

Athamas turned to Semele determined to somehow find a way beneath that cool indifferent mask she had presented at every one of their encounters. Hoping to defuse the tension between father and daughter, Athamas turned to Semele in the hope that she would listen to his entreaty.

"If not for me, then at least for the sake of our two kingdoms please join me at the altar."

Having run out of excuses, Semele nodded.

The wedding began with the customary sacrifices to Juno. All went well, and at last the time came for the bride to speak her petition. Semele glanced at the remnants of the first sacrifice, at the dying tendrils of smoke which had only moments before rose up before the statue of the queen of heaven.

If there was some truth to the old stories, then now was the time to act, when the goddess in whose honor the offering had been made had heard the prayers of her followers. For only after that portion of the marriage rituals could Semele beg the aid of Jupiter. He alone would hear her petition, for she planned to conceal it amidst the words she was required to speak. She would pour out in thoughts all that she could not express in the formal words of the ritual.

Gathering her courage, Semele took her place near the altar, with Athamas at her side.

It was time.

"Please, great Jupiter, son of Saturn, king of heaven, bringer of tempests, I ask that you look with favor on the joining of my father's house to the kingdom of Beotia.

She continued with the ritual, never faltering over the formal phrases or allowing her voice to waver. . But there came a moment when the cumbersome phrases of her petition were inadequate, nothing more than useless platitudes which could not convey all she desired to speak. She was grateful for the ceremonial veil which concealed her face, for it afforded her the luxury of allowing everything she had held back for so long to at last surface. The iron control she had fought so hard to maintain during her courtship shattered, broken by the cruel inevitability of her fate.

And Semele daughter of Cadmus wept. Tears of fury, frustration and sorrow

And recklessly she cast formality aside, offering up her soul's cry in its stead. Once released there was no stopping the torrent of thoughts now they had been unleashed.

"Please help me. I have no where else to turn, and cannot believe that I'm destined for Athamas.

If it is your will, and the decree of the Moirae then help me to accept what has been ordained.

But if I am meant to follow a different course, then I ask that the omens you read for my joining would reflect the path of my thread.

Do you not remember when we first met? I know our time together was short, but I have never forgotten it, and hope that on the strength of that memory alone you will not reject my petition.

I risk much in asking so boldly, but I cannot ignore the hope that my thread is not woven with Athamas's life."

Semele slowed the flow of her thoughts, having finished speaking the expected petition. Turning to face the assembled priests and guests, she let the final words of her mental petition take shape. There would be no turning back once she had made this request, all she had ever read or heard in conversation with Alexandros was clear about asking the help of an Olympian in the name of just one let alone two of the following claims. Which was probably why no one had ever dared to make the attempt with even a minor god, for once reached the final decision could not be challenged by any immortal being.

Once spoken, that request would ask the god to look deeply at the workings of The Moirae, to render a judgment based upon the call of destiny alone.

"By the spark of immortal fire I carry in my blood, by the tie of my family to you and your divine brethren, I ask that you, thunderer, lightning wielder, father of gods and men would heed my voice and let your will be known."

Utterly spent Semele turned towards Athamas to await his part in the ceremony. She could do nothing now but wait, and trust that the memory of a winter's night and the strength of a request made by right of heritage would be enough to grant her freedom.

_Note from the authoress: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, I'm grateful for all of the encouraging feedback._

_Finally I've begun incorporating Handel's opera into my retelling, and having lots of fun in the process._

_The fun thing about opera is that the audience is expected to accept what the characters sing without question._

_Ten minutes into Act 1, Semele makes this very dramatic and gorgeous petition to Jupiter for his help, and you get the impression that she is very passionately in love with the god._

_Unfortunately, Handel doesn't tell us how they met, just expects you to accept that part of the story, and with such gorgeous singing and amazing music that's not hard to do._

_Come to think of it Greek legends have a tendency to be full of lots of stories where there are more questions than answers._

_So I'm trying to come up with a convincing explanation for how Jupiter and Semele first met, which will be the subject of the next chapter._

_Then it's back to the plot of Act 1 where things start to get really interesting for everyone involved._

_The necklace Semele receives appears in a few Greek legends, most notably the story of Edipus._

_The history I gave it is drawn from a number of stories where whoever was unfortunate enough to possess the necklace met with a gruesome death or fate. _

_Hope you all enjoyed this chapter._

_Please don't forget to review._


	7. Chapter 7 The Tale of Troy

_Note from _the_ authoress: Thanks so much for the reviews and story alerts; it's awesome to know people are enjoying this tale._

_This chapter gives some background concerning Ino's visions, and Semele and Jupiter's first encounter._

_It takes place three years before Semele's wedding; I don't expect to have anymore flashback scenes after this chapter as they can make the story confusing._

_I've also written a short piece called The Choices of a King, which explores Jupiter's perspective of The Trojan war._

_The link is on my profile._

_My thanks to Kates for inspiring the concept for Semele's bold request in her excellent story The Phantom's Labyrinth._

_If you haven't read any of her awesome stories you're missing out on an amazing bunch of tales._

_There will be more history revealed on the immortal realm in the coming chapters._

_Feedback is greatly appreciated._

_Enjoy._

The stranger entered the city at twilight, moving with the confidence and grace of a man trained in the arts of war. The soldiers guarding the city gates had addressed him with respect and warmth, recognizing a fellow comrade. He paused to look about him, as if seeking direction or help, dark eyes missing nothing as he watched the people of Thebes go about their business.

It was then Semele had caught sight of the warrior, as she was returning from the agora. What drew the princess to approach him she could never afterwards recall. Perhaps the intense look of interest he cast her way, or how he rode his horse as if he were one with it. Semele reflected that Ino would enjoy riding such a magnificent animal, often her sister could be found in the stables talking to the horses, or offering them morsels from the royal kitchen. She was also an accomplished rider, and though she loved a fast gallop, and appreciated the power and grace of horses, Semele had no passion for the sport like Ino.

Boldly Semele approached the stranger, offering him greetings and the hospitality of her father's house.

He readily accepted.

Semele paused briefly at the palace gates, to inform the soldiers that she had offered Xenia to a stranger and that he would soon request entry. Knowing that her orders would be obeyed, she went to inform her father.

According to the sacred law of Xenia, Cadmus had offered the stranger food and lodging, seating him in a place of honor at the high table. Having feasted well, Cadmus had turned to the stranger, to ask for news beyond the borders of his kingdom. Semele, seated at her father's left, soon grew impatient with the formality of the conversation, and choosing her moment carefully slipped away from the feast in search of Ino.

She did not have far to go, for her sister becoming bored with the endless chatter of the guests had gone to examine one of the tapestries adorning the walls of the megaron. It was a recent acquisition, depicting the warriors emerging from the wooden horse, and the flaming towers of Ilium in the background. Semele approached softly, smiling at the look of intent interest and curiosity which her sister's face wore.

Only ten summers, Ino possessed a love for stories which often frustrated her tutors, as their young princess often preferred a heroic tale for study and memorization, instead of the expected lessons for a daughter of royal birth. Their old nurse Beroe was too strict and unbending, following Cadmus's orders which said that he expected his daughters to be raised according to the customs of their people. Such pastimes as storytelling would never have entered her thoughts.

Ino's voice recalled Semele from her musings with a start.

"I wonder what it was like? For the Trojans when their city fell?" The question was so unexpected that Semele had to stop and consider her answer.

"I don't think anyone's ever asked that Ino. You know the story well, all any Greek has been interested in is the conquest of Troy and the bravery of our warriors. Also there was Paris's breaking of Xenia, the reason the war began in the first place. It's an intriguing question, but I doubt if we'll ever know."

Sighing in disappointment, Ino turned away from the tapestry.

"I'd like to stay and find out if the stranger has tales to tell, but Beroe will come looking for me soon. And father always wants me out of the way when guests come."

"When has that ever stopped you before? You know how much you love a good story, and who is going to care enough to tell him?"

"Beroe."

"She's already left the feast. You know how much they bore her, and you hardly need her to play nurse maid with you now you're older. Come on."

With joy Semele saw the light of mischief rekindled in her sister's eyes, eyes which had for too long been downcast and mournful because of their father's determination to ignore Ino's existence. For a moment fury rose within Semele, and it took all of her considerable will to force it back. There would come a day when she was ready to openly defy Cadmus, but for now she would wait and prepare herself for that battle.

The sisters found a place near the hearth, and settled down to wait. The warmth of the fire, combined with the constant flow of voices soon sent Ino to sleep. But Semele remained awake, anxious for any news this warrior brought of the fates of her countrymen. Half an hour passed before a courtier voiced the question she had been awaiting.

"What of those who survived Ilium? Is there word yet of Odysseus, or our own warriors who sailed to aid Agamemnon?" Their guest's answer was immediate.

"I know only that Laertes son departed Troy with all the rest and has not yet returned to Ithaca. As for your warriors I know nothing of their fate. I can tell you of my years in Troy, if that would interest you milord."

At the mention of Troy Ino roused, only to turn away in disappointment at their guest's words. Some expression must have shown on her face, as the warrior turned in Ino's direction.

"Your highness would prefer another tale perhaps?"

Semele tensed, anticipating Cadmus's reaction to her sister's unintentional disregard of custom. Unlike Semele Ino always found the formalities of court edicate difficult to master, preferring instead a direct approach.

Hoping to deflect her father's anger, Semele came to her sister's defense.

"My sister did not mean to dishonor your sacrifice or suffering, warrior. She has often heard that tale before, and thought that your retelling of events would be similar to other accounts she has heard of Ilium's fall."

"Ah but princess, every warrior's tale is unique. If your royal sister would permit me to speak I am sure she would find my tale enjoyable."

"I meant no disrespect," Ino struggled to recall the correct way to address a warrior of noble birth. "It's just that many of your comrades have passed through our gates asking for xenia on their way home from Ilium. They have told us of Achilles, Patroklous and Agamemnon, and cunning Odysseus whose trickery gained our warrior's access to Troy." Ino paused, wondering if she dared make a request of a stranger for the story she had always longed to hear.

"I know you fought for our people, but would you consent to tell us of Ilium's warriors instead?"

Semele was sure she saw amusement briefly kindled in the dark eyes of their guest.

"Very well princess. Listen and I will tell you of the glories of Ilium, of her wealth, strength and splendor."

Ino always eager for a story sat close to Semele, eyes intent on the face of the storyteller as he began his tale. And it was as if Semele had never heard the familiar story before. He spoke of the building of Troy, of how gods worked unseen alongside mortals to raise the walls which would withstand 10 long years of war. Tales of wealth, glory and power, of conquest and intrigue flowed from the stranger's lips as his audience sat enthralled. He spoke of the splendor of Ilium, of her kings and mighty men of war, and the value which every Trojan placed upon honor, justice and the pursuit of knowledge.

And he spoke of the royals who had played a part in the greatest war of that doomed city. Cassandra, doomed to forever speak the truth and never be believed, destined to be killed by a vengeful queen after witnessing the destruction of her beloved city. Priam, strong and courageous daring the anger of the Greeks to reclaim the body of his beloved son from Achilles. Paris young and reckless, daring to break the sacred law of Xenia to bring Helen to the halls of his father. Hector, tamer of horses, greatest of all the Trojan warriors, a passionate and courageous man who loved his wife and homeland.

Semele leant forward; just as interested as her younger sister to hear how this warrior would describe the destruction of Ilium. Every other account she had heard had been filled with the moments of tense expectation, experienced by the Greek warriors within the wooden horse. No bard or soldier returning to his homeland had ever troubled to speak of that night from a Trojan's viewpoint. Even Cadmus looked interested as the stranger began to speak.

He told of great revelry and feasting, of lovers and families rejoicing that at last the conflict had ended. All in Troy had been convinced that their victory was certain, never realizing that it was Ilium's last night. As Ino listened, she tried to imagine what it might have been like, and felt sorry for all the innocent of Troy who were unaware that death was close.

Semele listened and wondered if a deeper truth was behind this warrior's passionate account of the last night of Troy. It was often said afterwards that Ilium had been a favored city of Jupiter. Could the lord of Olympus then have given his city one last night of glory, so that none would ever forget the splendor of Ilium? Could he have wanted to somehow recompense all who survived the destruction with that one bright memory for them to treasure?

Her musings were interrupted as their guest drew himself up tall and proud, enacting the role of Priam determined to defend his city and family from the Greeks. The sound of a sword being drawn in one single fluid movement echoed through the hall, as all heard of Priam's doomed attempt to safeguard his people, of how he was slain while seeking the protection of Jupiter at the household altar.

Semele had always thought of the Trojan War as a battle where the Greeks were in the right, determined to punish the man who had broken Xenia and return to the king of Sparta his faithless wife. Familiar with the ways of politics, she also knew of the great advantages which capturing Troy would bestow on her conquerors, for it had been situated at a point where trade routes were plentiful and access to great riches was sure. But as she listened to their guest's account, she felt the first stirrings of disgust and contempt for her people's actions on the night of Ilium's fall.

As she listened to the stories of rape and pointless destruction, Semele felt a cold fury begin to flow through her veins. She knew that in times of war the destruction of a city and its people was inevitable, but only in a remote intellectual corner of her mind where logic and rational thinking ruled. To hear such a detailed and gruesome retelling of Ilium's end filled her with loathing for her people. Silently she hoped that their actions had not gone unnoticed by the gods, that Jupiter himself had taken vengeance against those who had destroyed his favored city.

There was utter silence in the throne room as the stranger finished his tale. Ino's eyes rested on the stranger with a look of mingled awe and sorrow. Never before had the young princess heard such a riveting and passionate account of the fall of Troy.

The thought crossed her mind that it was a pity none of her tutors possessed this guest's skill in the art of storytelling, for she would be able to learn history so much more easily with such an accomplished instructor.

But mingled with her admiration was another feeling, one of ancient power and knowledge awaiting only her recognition and acceptance to give it form. She had experienced this before, on the rare occasions when she had been permitted to attend a sacrifice to the gods, or been present at her father's prayers for prosperity and safety for their city. Something she could not explain was prompting her to speak with this stranger, telling her that his presence meant something momentous for both herself and Semele.

She resolved to speak with this stranger before he took his leave.

Semele sat in silence, a myriad of thoughts coursing through her as she struggled to acknowledge all the impressions this warrior's tale had awakened. One of the few things Cadmus appreciated was her talent for observation, one he had readily made use of on a number of occasions. Within the story their guest had related there had been a confidence in fact, and vividness of description which no other bard she had heard relating the fall of Ilium could match.

No word or misstep had betrayed his identity, but a gradual realization that this warrior might not be what he appeared had prompted her quick mind to wonder. She had watched the face of this warrior as he told the story of Ilium's fall. There had been true sorrow present as he spoke of its fiery destruction, the slaughter of the innocent and the desecration of the sacred altars and temples.

She knew that look well, for it had graced the face of Cadmus whenever word of a battle lost and the death of his warriors had been brought to Thebes. When speaking of the end of Troy, dark eyes had held a look she had seen countless times spring to life in the cool gaze of her father. A gaze where duty warred against desire, where the weight of a king's choices were not enough to ensure the end a monarch craved.

If she was right, this was no soldier who now sat facing her, but a god.

The household was not yet awake when Ino slipped quietly out a door to the stables. Often she came before dawn, wanting to spend time with the horses she loved and enjoy the peace before the palace awoke. She was not like her fiery sister; ever ready to debate and challenge, but a gentle calmer girl who desired nothing more than a life devoid of excitement. But even at ten, Ino knew that such a dream was impossible.

So she determined to enjoy these moments out from under the watchful gaze of Cadmus and Beroe, knowing that they would be rare when she reached the age of marriage and must do her duty to her kingdom.

The young princess moved down the row of stalls, pausing to speak affectionately to each horse. Each she knew by name, had even helped to care and feed for them when the palace had been overflowing with guests and the stables had been full. At last she came to where the stranger's horse stood, ears pricked and eyes regarding her with interest. Ino reached out to stroke the velvet nose, marveling at the beauty and strength of the animal as she bent closer.

Approaching footsteps caused her to turn sharply, fearing that perhaps one of the servants had glimpsed her and would not hesitate to inform Cadmus. She found herself looking up into the dark eyes of their guest. Anticipating his request, she unlatched the stall door and led his horse forward.

The contact was fleeting, but in that instant when their fingers touched, Ino felt the world around her reform and sharpen. It was as if she saw everything from the moment of her birth through new eyes, the eyes of one not wholly mortal. In that moment the veil of mortal sight was torn asunder, revealing the god who stood before her as the king of heaven. Still more impressions filled her senses, as she looked deeper instinctively knowing how to use this awesome gift of knowledge. She saw laid out before her the past, in all its glory horror and intrigue, the present, where mortals struggled to discern their destinies, and the future, the most terrible and intriguing mystery of all.

And she knew that these glimpses were nothing compared with the knowledge the gods or The Moirae so easily comprehended. Something far older than the race of men stirred and was brought to life in her blood by that simple touch, a remnant of immortal knowledge which coursed through her being with frightening rapidity. Briefly she fought, but at last gave up the struggle knowing that it was futile to resist this gift of her heritage.

Why had she never realized before what those disquieting impressions meant? Perhaps this revelation was not meant to be hers until she was strong enough to accept its weight.

How was this possible? The look of puzzlement was reflected in the face of her companion as Ino sought an answer.

A moment later Jupiter answered, having divined her thoughts.

"Of course, you are of the line of Agenor, kin to the immortals since ancient times."

All of her father's cruel remarks came back to her, and she wondered what he would say if he knew this astonishing gift she had been given at birth. Often in the past he had questioned the reason for her birth, even said that she was born to be his torment.

The king of gods turned to her, eyes scorching and mesmeric as they locked with her own uncertain gaze.

"Do not underestimate the power of The Moirae. Every thread is unique, has its place in the tapestry of the universe. Yours is a unique destiny Ino, daughter of Cadmus. Never forget that."

"I won't sire." Curiosity prompted her to ask. "Does anyone besides me know your true name?"

"Semele knows, though not through the gift of foresight. Speak of this encounter with her if you will, but tell no one else of what you have learned."

Unspoken between them was the knowledge of what Cadmus would say if he learned of Ino's gift. He would never consider it a blessing, but would regret that her foresight did not possess the strength of even the most untrained of visionaries. He was a king who always required sure and decisive answers, and thus would never consider her gift to be of any lasting value.

Ino also suspected that like the other countless occasions when he had descended to the mortal world, Jupiter wanted none in Thebes to look beyond the form he had taken lest any on Olympus learn of his visit.

Ino stepped forward offering the reins to the god with a quick nod in acceptance of the command he had laid upon her. He turned his horse and rode towards the palace gates, a tall and majestic figure lit by the first light of Eos.

Ino and Semele had often talked of that night in the weeks that followed, and the weight of the gift which was Ino's to bear. More than once it had proved useful, and Ino was careful to keep her talent hidden from all but Semele as Jupiter had commanded.

And now 4 years later, Semele stood at the god's altar, in the hope that this single encounter might influence the judgment she had requested.


	8. Chapter 8 Discerning Omens

The first words of Alexandros's petition broke the silence of the throne room on Olympus just as Eos rose to bring light to the mortal world. The king and queen of the gods listened to the prayers issuing from the Theban temple with a mixture of resignation and forced calm. Only the fact that they were required to interpret the omens for Semele and Athamas's marriage, kept the royal couple from conflict on that ancient dawn. Not even the power each received as Alexandros invoked their names was enough to quell the tension between them.

For heaven's queen, every marriage served to remind her of her king's unfaithfulness, and the fact that she was unable to prevent him from seeking amusement in the mortal world.

Familiar with his queen's rages and knowing that any attempts at reconciliation would be futile; the Thunderer was determined to do his duty and bid his queen farewell as soon as their part in the wedding was over.

Neither expected that this ceremony would be different from the countless other times priests had requested their favor for the joining of two mortals' destinies.

Face impassive and eyes intent, he sat in silence, knowing that the discerning of omens for this mortal couple would only require the smallest use of power.

Cool elegant and poised, she sat enthroned at his right. Her beauty was undeniable, yet it possessed no warmth or gentleness, but an icy perfection which seldom was disturbed.

Once he had desired her, pursued the daughter of Cronus with a relentless determination for three mortal centuries. Even now she remained a queen of unmatched beauty amongst the immortals. How often he had wanted to shatter that mask of calm perfection, strip away every layer of expertly crafted disguise and matchless radiance, until he beheld the true goddess beneath.

But any hope of that possibility had quickly been destroyed the moment he had taken his first mortal lover. He recalled only too well the scathing comments and awesome demonstration of power which had accompanied their first confrontation. Had he not been determined to defend his actions, Jupiter might have been impressed with the effortless control his queen displayed as her power flooded his essence.

He knew what infuriated her. It was not the fact that he had visited the mortal realm, or that he had taken a human lover. It was his interest in mortals, and that he had gifted one with his love and a child which had roused Juno's anger.

Nor had this mortal woman been the first. Over the centuries Juno had lost count of the women her husband and brother had welcomed into his bed. And though he had become an expert at presenting a mask of impassivity and outward calm, she had suspected something was amiss when her consort had returned from his travels throughout the earth three years ago by mortal reckoning.

Over the centuries she had also learned the art of creating an impenetrable mask, one which she suspected only her brother possessed the skill to effortlessly strip away. Even now the fragile hope lingered that he would accept her subtle challenge, to look past the mask of regal queen to behold the true goddess. No matter how hard she tried that desire would not be quenched, and somehow she knew that one journey to Thebes held the answer to her questions.

If only the queen of heaven had been able to divine the thoughts of her consort, she would have glimpsed all she desired to learn. For overseeing the joining of the house of Cadmus to Beotia had stirred memories within the king of gods. Memories of a young princess eager for tales of the glories of Ilium, of a king and his court listening enraptured as he told of its fiery end.

But strongest of all was his recollection of Semele, one of the few mortals to interest him in centuries. He had admired her grace and strength on the night he had come to the court of Cadmus. She was a passionate woman bound by convention, a dark beauty who possessed a love of knowledge, and a thirst for power which equaled his own. Yet she was held captive by the expectations and laws of her people, forced to assume a mask of cool indifference when beneath it lay a woman who desired freedom.

Curiosity stirred as he watched Semele step forward, a slender and determined figure outwardly calm and dignified. He let the ritual words of the bride flow through his mind, scarcely listening to the familiar requests for favor and prosperity.

But when the princess of Thebes began her mental petition, it took all of his iron will to keep his face impassive. Strong and clear, the voice of the princess Semele filled his thoughts, full of passion and a note of desperate longing. This was no request for a simple reading of omens, but a plea for him to look at the very fabric of destiny to render a judgment. Admiration at her daring, and interest in the immortal realm stirred within the king of the gods as he listened intently to Semele's mental request.

She had asked for his help by right of ancestry, and the remnant of divine fire she had inherited as a daughter of the line of Agenor. And not even he could ignore a prayer based on the ties of blood or divine heritage. Though many on Olympus looked on any connection to the mortal realm with contempt, he had always treasured that fragile link. And now that choice was at last rewarded, as he signaled to his queen to withhold her decision for a moment.

She willingly acquiesced, a secretive smile playing about her lips as she realized that her consort was not the only one to receive an intriguing prayer on that ancient morn. Juno's face wore a frown of concentration as Beotia's prince made his request. Athamas had long ago earned her favor, because of his adherence to traditional methods of governing and the fact that he had sworn before her altar to be faithful to the princess chosen by his father.

An ironic smile played about the fair goddess's lips. Perhaps Jupiter was right, there were some lessons mortals could teach the gods after all. Now if only he would learn from Beotia's prince, her existence would be far more pleasant. Determinedly she set such thoughts aside. She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that her marriage was one based on power and passion alone.

Like her husband she had little need to attend to the prayers offered, though the power they lent her essence was considerable. So she was surprised when her brother rose from his throne, face inscrutable and eyes revealing nothing of the reason for this abrupt breach of procedure. In response to her questioning glance he turned to face his queen.

And it was then she saw something she had not seen in the eyes of the king of gods for countless centuries. Excitement, mingled with keen interest and barely restrained curiosity were present in those normally unreadable eyes.

"Husband? What has happened?"

For a moment he didn't answer, intent on the summons of the three sisters of destiny.

"The Moirae have requested my presence."

Wisely he chose not to mention Semele's part in this summons, knowing that his queen would be enraged if she knew that a descendent of Agenor had asked for his aid.

She stared at him in astonishment. The Moirae had requested his aid on few occasions since her consort had become ruler of Olympus and the mortal world. And in all of those incidents the fates of either mortals or gods had rested on the questions the three sisters wanted Jupiter's help in settling. She wanted to know more, to ask what role Thebes played in this urgent summons.

But as she knew only too well Jupiter would not share the secrets of destiny with anyone. For only he possessed the skill to read glimpses of the past, present, and future in the patterns woven by the Moirae. All gods were subject to the will of destiny, a fact that frustrated all on Olympus who possessed the power and desire to change its course.

She would never forget the heated arguments on Olympus over the fate of Ilium. She had fought for the Greeks, still furious about the choice the young prince of Troy had made over the rightful owner of the golden apple. Her consort had remained impartial throughout the ten year conflict, but she had always been aware that had Troy's destiny not already been written, her brother would have prevented its destruction.

That war had taught all of them a hard lesson, one that even now they fought to deny.

Destiny could not be thwarted.

Not even the power of the king of gods could alter a decision made by the Moirae.

Why then were they requesting his aid?

These and a dozen other questions filled the mind of heaven's queen as her consort took his leave, to examine the threads of two mortal lives and render his judgment according to the will of destiny.

_Note from the authoress: In Handel's opera the chorus gives a brief glimpse of the argument between Jupiter and Juno, but the singers playing the roles don't make an appearance until the second act._

_So I thought it would make the story more interesting if I gave my readers a chapter that shows the tension on Olympus._

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter._

_Feedback is greatly appreciated._


	9. Chapter 9 Word of Calling

_Hello everyone._

_Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but my computer went through a couple of major harddrive crashes and I just got it back this week._

_I had fun writing this chapter, as it gives more history of the immortal realm, plus after this chapter things will start to move along at a good pace._

_Feedback is always appreciated._

_Enjoy and thanks for reading. _

It was a place of mystery, where destinies were woven and conceived as each fragile life was formed. Mortal eyes could never hope to gaze upon this realm, for it contained a wealth of impressions and sensations too numerous for them to catalogue. Immortals could gaze upon the chaos, had the eyes to see the awful glory of this cavern where the tapestry of all worlds rested. Yet even they dared not linger long, for the fabric of destiny was an awesome thing to behold, even for a deity; because it challenged them to gaze without fear upon the myriad possibilities and paths the tapestry foretold.

Only Jupiter could walk this realm with ease, for of all the gods he alone possessed the power and strength of will to comprehend glimpses of the mysterious force of destiny. Even so he knew that none could discern the complex flow of past present and future with the ease of these ancient goddesses.

The first had the look of a maiden, innocent, full of the joy of creativity and the quiet strength only hope could bestow. With a skill which any mortal weaver would envy, she expertly spun the life threads of each being as it was born, before surrendering them into her sister's keeping.

The second sister bent to her work with confident unhurried movements. In her face rested the knowledge of all that a mortal life could hold. Every facet of humanity and its struggles and triumphs was known to her, and she gave a portion of each to a mortal life as her foreknowledge directed.

The third sister's form was shrouded in shadow and mystery, for she represented the final journey all mortal creatures must take. To her was appointed the task of severing each thread when its owner had fulfilled his destiny, a duty she carried out with an air of calm efficiency. None but the gods could gaze on her true form, and even then only the strongest amongst them could meet her gaze for no more than a few tense moments. For she represented the one thing which immortals could not comprehend, an ancient truth of the universe which they were always thankful to have been spared from knowing.

She was Atropos, known and feared throughout the mortal world as the one who severed the thread of life, in many ways the most powerful of the Moirae.

The three sisters acknowledged Jupiter's presence with a respectful inclination of the head, never pausing in their work as he stepped forward to offer the expected greeting. Even he could not command the Moirae, for they were beings who had existed since the dawn of the world.

So he addressed them with the respect they deserved, casting off for a moment the mantle of king to answer their summons.

"I come at your bidding, drawn by the invocation of divine flame and the tie of blood to the house of Agenor.

At the request of Semele I seek your permission to look at the tapestry of worlds, to search out her thread and discern the path of her destiny."

The sisters turned as one, each meeting the gaze of the son of Saturn with a look of deep and intense scrutiny which weighed and judged his words.

Clotho answered first.

"We will hear your request king of gods, and acknowledge the ties of kinship and divine flame which have brought you to our realm."

Lachesis continued. "We have called you here in accordance with immortal law, because the thread of Cadmus's firstborn is even now being woven with your own."

Atropos expertly cut a brittle thread before finishing the thoughts of her sisters. "Even if she had not sought your aid, still we would have requested your presence because your threads are being woven into an extraordinary pattern. Not since the dawn of the universe have I seen such unusual and intriguing possibilities spread out before my sight.

So look your fill ruler of the skies, and make your judgment according to what you see.

But take care with what you read, for what you see are only possible roads for this mortal and you to travel. One decision made in haste could alter the balance of power significantly if you make the wrong choice"

Jupiter nodded in acceptance of the eldest sister's words, before bending over the tapestry to seek out the distinctive threads of the house of Cadmus. He found Semele's thread immediately, and so closely was it woven with Ino's that it seemed as if their threads were one.

Ino's thread was not as strong as her sisters, yet it possessed colors which indicated her gift of foresight and unshakable loyalty as well as her gentle nature.

Semele's told quite a different tale. Strength, passion and pride were traits he glimpsed at once, along with fierce loyalty to Ino and a thirst for knowledge and power. Eagerly he gazed at the thread, a part of his mind noting how many other destinies she had influenced or slightly altered by a casual comment or cutting observation. As a princess, this was hardly unexpected, for the lives of those born to royalty often became bound however briefly with the destinies of noble and peasant alike.

He cast his senses out further, pouring his power into the search which would answer the question of whether this fiery girl was meant for Beotia's prince.

And the answer he received filled him with a mixture of shock and something which was almost like triumph.

Semele was destined to become his consort. Curiosity became excitement as he bent closer, eyes intent upon the story this delicate thread had to tell. She was destined for greatness, and her name would be remembered and spoken of by mortal bards many ages hence. Death was also present, an end in which triumph and fear shared equal parts.

Here the tale ended, for that part of the story had not yet been woven, perhaps could not be shown until a specific path was chosen.

Sensing his thoughts, Lachesis turned to face him, eyes knowing and mysterious as they met his own questioning gaze.

"Here is the choice my sister spoke of, one which will shape more than your own existence and that of Cadmus's eldest child.

My sisters and I cannot know what will come, until a certain request is made of you by Thebes' princess. Even now, I await one event before continuing my work."

And as if she had heard Lachesis's words, Semele's voice filled the realm of destiny.

Jupiter often thought afterwards that it was like her voice, and yet it was not. For no mortal throat could hope to produce syllables of such raw elemental power, nor capture so perfectly scattered notes of the music of storm, wind and fire.

At once Lachesis resumed her work with an air of barely suppressed excitement, even Atropos looked interested as she severed the thread of a mortal child released at last from the torment of slow starvation.

It was Clotho who voiced Jupiter's suspicions, in a voice filled with awe and astonishment.

"Lachesis, she has spoken a word of calling. Never did I expect to hear one spoken, especially by a mortal maiden."

Jupiter gazed at Semele's thread in admiration, scarcely able to believe what he had just heard.

He like Clotho had known of this ancient secret, of all on Olympus only he had been chosen by the Moirae to keep safe the knowledge of those words which could change the course of destiny. They were one of the deepest secrets of the immortal realm, kept by the Moirae, woven at the heart of the tapestry of all worlds. These sacred words had a long and complex history, but were formed from the truth that though they governed mortals, gods and goddesses alike drew power from their worshipers and the sacrifices offered at their temples.

Still more significant was the power which rested in the many names a deity possessed. Even in the immortal realm, many thought that the titles mortals knew and spoke with varying degrees of reverence were but reflections of their power and glory. That belief was based on a phrase minor immortals spoke in ignorance, unaware of its true significance.

Names have power.

A part from the Moirae, he alone knew the power which even the smallest of titles possessed, for it was connected to the secret which they had charged him to guard from all his divine brethren. Each sister had commanded him to swear upon the sacred waters of the Styx that he would speak of this knowledge to no one. When he had questioned their order, the youngest had sternly explained that he alone had the power and command of all elements necessary for guarding the weight of this knowledge.

So he had given his oath, and learned that amongst the fragile titles mortals offered up in prayers lay the words which called to the very essence of a deity. And that when one of those words was spoken, a god or goddess had the right according to immortal law to answer the one who called.

It was a right not based upon any prayers, or need for power, but the fact that the speaker had possessed the strength of will and soul to discover and secretly voice in his thoughts a word which called to a god's power. It could only be spoken by one who was willing to sacrifice much, in order to be given glimpses of the immortal realm.

And few there were among the race of men willing to pay that price.

Yet this descendent of mortal and immortal blood, had spoken the one that called to his divinity alone. All within him that was tempest and lightning, passion and magnificence rose up in response to that word uttered in the secret places of a mortal's soul. What had granted her this knowledge he did not know, but he was obligated to answer her call according to the secret he had learned from the Moirae centuries ago.

Deeper words existed which expressed other aspects of his essence, but Semele had spoken the first of the three most powerful.

Turning away from the tapestry he addressed the three sisters, offering them thanks for their advice and the chance to examine their work.

And as he returned to his throne on Olympus, the image of a slender maiden with raven hair held sway over his thoughts. This marriage he decided, would not take place, for who could deny the will of the three sisters of destiny.

So he reasoned, and so he answered with a note of implacable command in his voice when his queen requested his final judgment. And she could do nothing but bow to his decision, before sweeping from the throne room with icy calm. For once he had spoken, not even his queen dared to challenge his decision.

He would claim Semele, and hope that he had made a choice which the Moirae would see fit to honor.

Effortlessly he called his power forth, assuming the shape of his sacred bird the eagle. Taking flight from Olympus he descended to the mortal world, keen eyes seeking out the city of Thebes and the temple to his consort Juno.

There.

Instincts of eagle and god became one in that timeless second as he circled the magnificent building, and he knew what he would do to keep the princess's thread bound with his own. To share even the smallest glimpse of power with a mortal was a dangerous path to walk, one which inevitably ended in death. But he would not take that road; only reveal enough so that the outcome he hoped for would come to pass.

To allay the fears of Cadmus and his court, he would let all see an outward sign of his favor rest upon Semele, so that they would know she was blessed by the gods.

He let the proclamation fill him, tasted the sweet glory of the words as they lingered for an instant in his essence until he spoke them in one long triumphant cry which shook the heavens.

"Semele I am coming."


	10. Chapter 10 Sacred Crown

It was one of the first lessons ever taught to those determined to become a high priest of a god or goddess. A fact which many young initiates obsessed with performing each ritual perfectly often struggled to master.

The truth that sometimes even when all was done according to tradition, a god might choose to intervene directly in a ceremony if he had taken an interest in any of the participants, or something within the sacrifice was contrary to the will of the Moirae.

Alexandros as a young student, who valued tradition and truly desired to serve the gods faithfully, had often frustrated his mentor because he could not see why a god or goddess would refuse to accept a sacrifice or prayer when made in all sincerity.

His old mentor had patiently explained that sometimes the ways of the gods are hard for a mortal even one trained in the reading of omens to comprehend. That sometimes they too find rituals cumbersome ways of expressing what they desire for a specific situation.

Only when Alexandros had finally acknowledged this possibility had his teacher permitted him to move on to the complex portions of his oracular training.

Never had he ever thought a day would come where he would see his mentor's words come true.

But now as a second sacrifice was offered in an attempt to placate Jupiter, Alexandros knew that he was about to see the scenario his mentor had sought to prepare him for be enacted before his eyes. Twice a sacrifice had been offered, and flames had risen to consume it, only to be quenched a moment later as each petition was rejected. To Alexandros the message was clear. Juno approved of the marriage, but her mighty consort did not. He had encouraged Athamas and Semele to once again offer their ritual petitions, in the fragile hope that the thunderer might relent.

But like the first attempt, it had been met with cold silence. And Alexandros knew that he must proceed as he had been trained to so many years ago and stop the wedding altogether. With fear he wondered how his king would react, for all in Thebes knew how much he desired that his difficult daughter be joined to Athamas and thus become someone else's responsibility.

Glancing toward Athamas, Alexandros noticed how he looked at Semele's slender and upright form, with admiration born not of genuine affection or friendship, but with a look one might give a priceless treasure. Then again, the princess had done all she could to keep him at a distance, meeting all of his attempts at friendship with cool indifference mixed with polite but obvious rejection of any romantic overtures.

Ino though, there was a possibility which could well work if given the chance. He had not missed the surreptitious glances she had cast Athamas, whenever he had attended at court, how she had always been the first to greet and engage him in conversation or be seated near him at a feast. Yes, her quiet gentle nature would be far more suitable to Athamas's steady personality than the fiery Semele. Even now, Ino's face was overshadowed with sorrow, so much so that Semele reached out to grasp her sister's hand in a gesture of reassurance and support.

For an instant the eyes of the two sisters met, Ino's held barely restrained sorrow, Semele's concern and deep affection. And Alexandros recognized in that moment the true state of affairs within Cadmus's household. Ino had from the first been drawn to Athamas, and for love of Semele done all she could to conceal her growing interest in Beotia's prince. Had Semele not been so consumed with fury and resentment, she might have noticed her sister's regard for Athamas and spoken to Cadmus asking that Ino be given to him in marriage instead. But perhaps all was not lost, for the gods clearly did not desire this union, and if he took care in how he spoke to Cadmus some good might yet come of this disaster.

Gathering his courage, the priest turned away from the altar of sacrifice to speak to his king.

"Milord, it is not the will of the gods that your daughter be joined to Athamas. I dare not continue with the ceremony lest I incur their wroth or bring destruction down upon your house and your people.

If your majesty will permit me to speak openly, may I suggest searching for another husband for your daughter?"

Had the situation not been so solemn Alexandros would have laughed at the look of dismay and horror his words produced.

"Alexandros, do you know how many suitors I have presented for Semele to choose from? How many feasts and revels I have poured my wealth into so that I might marry her to someone suitable?"

"No my lord, if you'll recall I wasn't asked to many of the court functions except as my role as high priest demanded."

"Athamas is the seventh prince I've asked my daughter to consider. By all rights I shouldn't even ask for her opinion, just choose the most suitable noble and let that be an end to the matter."

Alexandros couldn't resist satisfying his curiosity. "Then why didn't you?"

"Because that girl is so blasted headstrong, so determined to choose her own destiny that even I can't force her to obey my will. You met her when she came to prepare for today's ceremonies; you know what she is like."

Alexandros recalled with pleasure the many hours he had spent in conversation with Semele, her intelligent questions, warmth and sense of humor were a refreshing change from the countless girls who were concerned only with the preparation of their wedding clothes and adornments. For a moment he was tempted to tell Cadmus that if he'd jus taken the time to know his children more, chosen to lay aside his grief over the death of his beloved queen and not sought to control his headstrong daughter so strictly perhaps this situation could have been avoided.

But as in all kingdoms, priests and servants alike dared not address their monarch so bluntly, and so Alexandros sought refuge in diplomatic speech and subtle insinuation.

"My lord, you need not let the feast and entertainment you've ordered prepared be wasted. Return with me now to the palace, and look to the possibility of your daughter Ino being wed instead of your eldest. She is gentle and fair, and I'm sure many princes would be pleased to make her their bride."

But Cadmus, like Semele was known for his stubbornness, and once he had an idea fixed in his mind nothing could sway him from his course. In that respect they were strikingly alike. Alexandros saw at once by the firm set of his king's jaw, that all his efforts at persuasion would come to nothing if he could not convince Cadmus to abandon this ridiculous idea that Semele should be queen of Beotia. In fact he reflected it would take a miracle to make this obstinate king come to his senses.

"At the risk of offending the gods high priest, I respectfully request that you proceed."

"Sire I cannot. Every sacrifice has been rejected, and it is obvious that your daughter is not meant to marry this prince." Silently the priest added, obvious to everyone accept you.

Semele had been close enough to overhear Alexandros's last remark, and could not resist casting her father a look of triumphant satisfaction. Glaring at her Cadmus gestured to the procession to depart, silently asking himself if anything else could possibly go wrong. Still he thought, Alexandros's advice was sound and perhaps all was not lost if he made this situation work to his advantage. And the priest was right, he need not let the wedding feast and entertainment go to waste.

Alexandros followed the procession past the temple gates, using all of his considerable skills in diplomacy to calm Cadmus's fury. He had just begun to suggest that perhaps the princess Ino might be a better match for Athamas, when he paused mid sentence; as he felt his gift stir. Few times as high priest had he been privileged to sense the gods at work in a powerful way, but what he was sensing now was unmistakable. Ancient and wild, born of storm and lightning the power of Jupiter himself was about to be revealed to all assembled.

He had no time to draw breath to announce what was about to come, before all witnessed something straight out of legend. The sign was unmistakable, known to rich and poor alike as the ancient symbol of a god's favor. It was said to have once rested upon the head of the child _Iulus_ on the night of Ilium's destruction. Formed at the bidding of the thunderer, as a symbol of kingship and that the gods would bless the efforts of **Aeneas** to establish and restore the glories of Troy. And now on this morning in high summer, all assembled in the temple courtyard were frozen in awe and astonishment as divine fire crowned Cadmus's eldest daughter.

It was one of the most awesome displays of power he had ever witnessed.

"Gods." The exclamation came from Ino, who was walking next to her sister, spoken with the deepest reverence and the slightest trace of fear.

It was a crown unlike anything fashioned by mortal artisans, formed not of gold or silver, but of pure azure fire. The flames did not flicker as one might expect, but burned steady and clear. No jewels adorned this wonder; Ino often thought afterwards that they would have somehow diminished the beauty of this symbol of divine favor. So mesmerizing were the flames, that Ino was tempted to reach out and touch them, to revel in this moment where she could for an instant savor divine glory.

Nor did it help that she, like Alexandros, had felt the stirring of raw power long before the circlet of flame had appeared. The gift which had awakened after she had heard the tale of Troy from the lips of Jupiter himself, now stirred with a strength she had never known before.

And she knew that this event was what she had glimpsed the evening before, when she had sought out her sister both to receive and give comfort.

She stared at her sister in awe, for the flames seemed to lend her a dignity and poise which any queen would be proud to wear. This was sacred fire, shaped into the semblance of a crown by a god's will, so that all might know that Semele was to be honored.

Semele stood frozen with awe, fierce joy filling her as she realized that her prayer had been heard and granted. She felt no heat from the fire encircling her brow, and yet she knew that it must be hotter than any mortal flame. It caressed her raven tresses with the greatest care and gentleness, in a way which could only be described as playful.

The Theban court was so intent on this miraculous turn of events that they didn't notice another approaching wonder. Swifter than lightning, it descended to earth with a speed no ordinary eagle could ever hope to match. All eyes were drawn to the bird as it drew ever closer. Larger than its mortal kin, its feathers were a deep and rich purple. The beak was the color of gold as it was lifted from the forge, and the eyes reflected the crystal fire of starlight. They met Semele's curious look with one of mingled amusement and stern command. And she knew in that instant who it was before her, no longer the quiet soldier she had met at Thebes's gate at twilight 3 years before, but a true king among immortals who was offering her the escape she had sought for so long.

No words filled her thoughts, they were not needed.

In one swift arc of grace and power, the eagle descended to earth, its talons closing on Semele before taking flight. The grip held strength both terrible and reassuring, for the princess knew that she had nothing to fear because the one who bore her to her destiny was master of the heavens. She looked back only once, and saw not the shocked faces of her father or Athamas, but the knowing gaze of her gentle sister. And as she soared upwards, she unclasped her mother's necklace, and in one fluid movement let it fall hoping that Ino would be able to claim it.

It fell to earth in a flashing arc; and Ino smiling caught it casting a look of triumph and defiance at Cadmus.

Total silence reigned amongst the assembled courtiers and guests, broken at last as Alexandros stepped forward and spoke in a confident authoritative voice. Power, ancient and wild filled him, and he spoke as directed by Jupiter, words of hope and reassurance meant to calm a king's wroth and allay a sister's fears.

"Hear now the words of high thundering Jove, king of gods and Ruler of The Skies. Mourn not over the fate of Semele, for she is this day honored above all mortals. She has been chosen by heaven's king and will receive many favors and be given a place among the gods."

It was Ino who shook herself free of the lingering sense of power the priest's words had produced, to lift her voice in words of thanksgiving and praise of the god who had chosen to honor her sister this day. The words poured from her effortlessly, and she silently thanked her tutors for the many hours of instruction they had given, and their insistence that she learn to recite both sacred and ordinary texts according to bardic tradition. Many remarked afterwards, that their youngest princess had surely been blessed by Apollo, for she sang the hymn with a joy and conviction which made even her father lament the fact that she could not pursue training as a bard.

"O Father Jove [Zeus], who shak'st with fiery light the world deep-sounding from thy lofty height:  
From thee, proceeds the' ætherial lightning's blaze, flashing around intolerable rays.

Thy sacred thunders shake the blest abodes, the shining regions of the' immortal gods:  
Thy pow'r divine, the flaming lightning shrouds, with dark investiture, in fluid clouds.  
'Tis thine to brandish thunders strong and dire, to scatter storms, and dreadful darts of fire;

With roaring flames involving all around, and bolts of thunder of tremendous sound.  
Thy rapid dart can raise the hair upright, and shake the heart of man with wild afright.  
Sudden, unconquer'd, holy, thund'ring god, 'with noise unbounded, flying all abroad;  
With all-devouring force, entire and strong, horrid, untam'd, thou roll'st the flames along."

Alexandros took up the hymn, thinking that Ino had certainly chosen an appropriate text with which to honor Jupiter and thank him for his favoring Cadmus's house as in the distant past.

"Thy thunders white, the azure garments tear, and burst the veil of all surrounding air.

And on the tops of mountains be reveal'd, for thy strong arm is not from us conceal'd."

Princess and high priest continued their recitation, and were soon joined by the rest of the procession as they began the return journey to the palace. When the last phrase had been sung, Athamas dropped back to walk with Ino, drawn to this gentle maiden who could quote sacred texts from memory and with a passion and eloquence few priestesses could boast.

It was Ino who broke the silence between them.

"Are you disappointed, that the gods decided to claim my sister?" He considered her question carefully. According to tradition he must always accept the will of the gods, and as Semele had spurned all his attempts he could hardly say that he was sorry that events had taken such a dramatic turn.

"No, I'm not sorry. This match was arranged by your father, and mine gladly gave his consent on my behalf. If it were my choice I'd be content to wait until I find a princess willing to accept me"

Ino glanced at her companion in surprise, perhaps he wasn't as bound by tradition as Semele had thought. .

Even before the procession reached the palace, rumors had already begun to be whispered amongst the slaves. Cadmus immediately took command, instructing a servant to proceed with assisting the guests to their places for the feast. When all was prepared, Athamas turned to Ino.

"Princess, would you honor me by taking the place to my right? I would enjoy your company for this feast."

Ino smiled nervously, hardly able to believe her good fortune. Since his arrival to pay court to Semele, Athamas had scarcely spoken a dozen words to her except as courtesy demanded. As the youngest she was always relegated to a lower place at the table.

To Ino's astonishment Cadmus made no objection, simply nodded for her to acquiesce.

"I thank you prince, we have not had the opportunity to speak at length since your arrival and I would enjoy hearing more of your homeland." Semele would be proud of that speech Ino thought, for even though she was now of marriageable age still she struggled to master the formal speech of the court, preferring instead the direct approach of those not born to wealth and privilege.

Surely the gods were looking with favor upon her family.

I thank you Aphrodite, for blessing my sister and I on this day.

Cadmus glanced around at the assembled courtiers and nobles. Many were talking animatedly of the morning's events, while others looked as if they were still trying to come to terms with what had taken place. This feast would serve as a distraction for both him and his guests, and perhaps he might even follow Alexandros's advice and consider giving Ino to Athamas instead.

Slaves entered the hall with the first course, and Thebes' king set aside his frustration that things had not gone according to plan. After all, even a king did not dare challenge the gods once they had chosen a mortal to favor. As he rose to address his guests, the thought crossed his mind that at least he still had a reason to celebrate.

_Note from the authoress: How's that for a dramatic exit? Out of all the versions of Semele's tale I've read, only Handel's opera has her being abducted by Jupiter. Unfortunately you only hear about it in a recitative sung by Cadmus, followed by a chorus of priests rejoicing that Semele has been favored by the gods, and then a truly gorgeous Aria sung by Semele follows one with lots of sensual text and meaning._

_So I thought it would be fun to write events from a different perspective, as well as hint at the relationship between Athamas and Ino which is also addressed in the first act._

_Ino and Alexandros's quotations are taken from the Orphic hymns to Zeus, I thought they would add more depth to the chapter and the lines were definitely appropriate._

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter and would love to know what you think in a review._

_I've the next part almost finished, so hopefully they're won't be such a long gap between updates._

_Thanks for reading._


	11. Chapter 11 Semele's Triumph

_Note from the authoress: My apologies for any areas where the formatting of this chapter makes reading difficult, or places where italics turns up unexpectedly. It took me a while to get this part written, and the next chapter is almost completed so there shouldn't be a long wait for the next update._

_As always feedback is welcome._

_Thanks for reading._

_Enjoy._

She was soaring upon the wind, joyous and triumphant, born to safety and the promise of passion on the wings of her lover. Never before had she known such freedom, such wild exhilaration as she was carried far above the mortal world. She felt no fear, for the strength of the talons which held her was greater than anything a mortal bird could ever hope to command.

And this was her lord's realm, one which she suspected he new intimately and would ultimately answer to his will alone.

As she soared through the clear morning sky, thoughts and questions warred for dominance within her mind. She had never dared to hope that her prayers could be answered, that she would actually win her freedom from a marriage not of her own choosing. Now all that she had longed for was within her grasp, and for the first time since her mother's death Semele was at a loss as to how she should react.

She might be the chosen lover of Jupiter but she knew him only through tales, and had little knowledge of the god behind the mask of king. One brief meeting a few winters ago was scarcely enough time to cultivate the relationship he would surely expect.

How was she to address him? My lord? Sire? All of the titles she had been taught from the cradle seemed insignificant when in the presence of a king amongst immortals.

Her escort turned his head slightly, and she could have sworn there was amusement reflected in those piercing golden eyes.

"Surely you can call me by name. Or would you prefer me to address you as your highness as I did when we last met."

"Gods no." Her answer was immediate. "I hear those titles so often from servants, courtiers and goodness knows how many nobles.

Even my own father hardly ever uses the name given me at birth. Only Ino calls me Semele now."

"Then surely you can call me Jupiter."

"It seems wrong for me to address you so informally. One of the few things my father did right was to teach my sisters and I respect for all immortal beings, from you on Olympus down to the nymphs of trees and waters. Now you ask me to overlook all those traditions and call you by name."

"I have claimed you for my lover, so it would be right for you to address me in whatever way sets you at ease." He fell silent then, concentrating all of his will on the task of parting the barrier between mortal and immortal realm.

Semele knew the moment that they had left the world of men. Every sense was alive in a way she had never known, and awe once again filled Cadmus's daughter at the wonder of the journey she was taking. This is his kingdom, she thought, and his treasure is one which cannot be measured in any mortal coin. The stars are his jewels, and the sky his kingdom, one which reflects the night in all her guises.

"You truly understand," Soft and sensual, the voice of her lover surrounded her, commanding and taking captive every thought. Never has even my queen spoken of the sky so beautifully, with the voice of one who values power and the terrible beauty of darkness."

Semele nodded. Of all the seasons of the year, it was the night she enjoyed the most.

They flew on for another hour, until at last Semele caught sight of a tall building set amidst snowcapped mountains.

As they drew closer, Semele was able to make out gates set in a high wall. Above it were the tops of trees, and the turrets of a palace. At first Semele thought it was a fortress, for the sheer size and impression of strength it conveyed was unmistakable. Yet as she looked deeper she saw that this surpassed anything built by mortal hands, for the architecture displayed a love of beauty and an ingenious mind not constrained by the bonds of impossibility or time.

They landed smoothly in front of tall wrought iron gates.

What happened next would have been hard to describe. When telling her story to Ino afterwards, Semele struggled to explain her lover's transformation. It was as if in that moment the universe held its breath in deference to her lover's power. In that timeless second the semblance of eagle was cast off and the form of human effortlessly assumed for her sake.

Seeing her hesitation, Jupiter motioned for her to precede him, offering his lover an encouraging nod as she cautiously reached out.

The iron was warm beneath her fingers, as if it recognized that the one asking for admittance was its mistress. Easily the gates opened at her touch and they passed in together.

A long and winding pathway led up to the great doors, flung wide in a clear invitation to enter and be welcome. So exquisite were the carvings which adorned them that Semele couldn't help pausing for a moment in admiration, before stepping forward.

Light from within spilled out into the courtyard, reminding Semele of the countless times she had instructed servants to make sure that guests received impressions of warmth and richness when they entered the palace of Cadmus.

The design was unlike anything she had ever seen before, a curious mixture of familiar and wholly new ideas which created an elegant yet comfortable impression. The megaron was illuminated by torchlight, which caught the bright flash of silver, the brilliance of crystal and the deep rich warm of gold upon the long table. The dishes were empty, but she suspected that whenever she had need of sustenance there would always be more than enough food to satisfy her hunger.

Every room was filled with new and intriguing discoveries, and she knew that it would take her many days to explore the palace completely.

Semele turned to her lover, eyes alight with gratitude and excitement at what he had ordered prepared. Automatically she slipped into the formal language she had been taught from the cradle, hoping that her thanks wasn't too effusive. Sensing her unease, Jupiter held up a hand to silence the continuous flow of words.

"If adherence to custom is what you desire, then I will address you formally and offer empty compliments to you as long as you want." At her look of mixed horror and dismay he continued. But from what I learned of you when I came to your father's court, you scorn such false words of praise. So I will do whatever is necessary to set you at ease." Unspoken between them was the knowledge that he could effortlessly become whatever she desired, for he was accustomed to assuming a thousand disguises to seduce his mortal and immortal conquests alike.

Semele immediately shook her head. "If it's all right with you, I'm tired of formality. It's just that I never truly expected you to come and help me. When I requested your aid, it was out of pure desperation, and I'm not going to even try to understand what happened at the end of my petition to you. Everything I learned from Alexandros was based on old legends and what little he could tell me without breaking his oaths to you."

"He is a faithful priest and a skilled reader of omens. I've had many priests over the centuries, but few ever serve me out of true devotion and genuine belief in my power." Amusement filled the voice of heaven's king as he continued. "I've lost count of the times when a young priest is shocked when I answer his request with a clear sign of power." Seeing that his words had as he hoped allayed her anxiety, Jupiter beckoned Semele closer.

"You will find much here to keep you interested, when I am kept away from you by duty. If you'll come to the window you'll see something no mortal has glimpsed for many ages of your world."

Curious the princess of Thebes swiftly crossed the megaron and peered out into the deepening shadows of night. At first she saw nothing, but then movement at the palace gates attracted her attention, and she strained her eyes to see through the darkness.

What on earth?

It was a cloudy evening with little starlight to illuminate the darkness. Now intrigued Semele turned in the direction she had last seen movement, determined to find out what or who was so near. Jupiter was glad to see that she showed neither fear nor concern, but curiosity tempered by caution as she peered through the darkness. At that moment the moon emerged from behind the endless expanse of cloud, and Semele let out a long breath of amazement.

"Where in the world did you find them? And how did you convince them to keep watch over a mortal? I know I am royalty, but even that would not be enough to make them leave their caves full of treasure." Her dark eyes were alight with humor as she turned to face her lover. "Surely you didn't offer me to them for food. All the stories I've ever read speak of how they enjoy devouring princesses."

"I'm always astonished at the tales mortal bards invent for dragons, especially as only a quarter of such legends possess even the smallest element of truth.

When I fought the Great War for the universe, not only the Cyclops joined me and my brethren in ending our father's tyranny. Dragons were among our most valuable allies, and I've always made sure to give them the respect and friendship my father never offered.

They also know of the stories you mentioned, and when I asked two of their strongest warriors to guard this palace they were more than willing to acquiesce. Also I think it amused them, for as you said there are many tales of dragons' appetites for princesses."

Semele listened with great interest, for surely never before had a mortal been privileged to hear such a riveting account of that ancient battle, one which had never been made known to humanity. Although now that she thought about it, it made sense for the gods to request the help of such ancient and powerful magical creatures.

Any other sheltered princess would have recoiled in fear, but Semele stood calmly gazing at these creatures of legend set to guard her with fascination.

"They're so beautiful, power, strength and grace incarnate.

Ino would have enjoyed watching them, though she always loved horses more than any other animals.

Oh I wish she could be here, she would have given anything to see this." A far away look entered Semele's dark eyes. "I've lost count of the times she requested the story of Pegasus and Bellerophon's defeat of the Chimera.

She used to say that he should have given the horse the choice of assisting him in his quest, instead of simply forcing him to obey by enslaving him with a magical bridle.

Even now, she has never lost her respect for all creatures."

He nodded, surprised and grateful that she and her sister recognized the true worth of these creatures which so many mortal warriors hunted for sport.

Many a prayer and sacrifice had been offered to Ares on those occasions, requesting victory over what mortals considered creatures both dark and dangerous. Nor had the god of war been the only one to receive petitions. Jupiter recalled all too well the desperate thoughts of many a dying warrior who had foolishly thought a dragon would be no match for his blade, shield or arrows. Some had been the best a kingdom had to offer, young men desperate for _kleos_ or the hand of a princess. But others had been born of unions between a mortal and god, one of the most prolific petitions had in fact come from one of his own children.

He had heard that prayer with a mixture of frustration and helplessness, for even he could not change the outcome woven by the Moirae. How he had wanted to speak to every warrior, tell him that if only he had chosen to respect the creature they hunted so determinedly then death would not have come.

But such thoughts were futile, for he had learned long ago how intense a mortal's desire was for _kleos_, and the sacrifices many would offer up to achieve such lasting recognition.

Indeed so great had the quest to slay dragons grown, that many sought refuge in the immortal realm, for there they were respected and honored as they deserved.

"They are loyal and intelligent creatures. Treat them with respect, and you will have no better guards."

Semele nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words, before requesting that she be shown her chambers.

The doors which led to her apartments were intricately carved, and as Jupiter flung them wide Semele immediately noted the rich furnishings and exquisite tapestries.

Her lover withdrew, requesting that she meet him in the megaron when ready.

As the doors closed behind him, Semele leant against them trying to come to terms with all that had happened. Only now was the joyful and fearful realization beginning to dawn upon the mortal princess as she took in the splendor of her surroundings. Questions which until now she had not wanted to consider would no longer be ignored, and so reluctantly she set aside joy, passion and triumph to consider each one.

Am I truly ready for this?

Will I a mortal princess be able to give to him what he desires?

How will I live amongst these wonders and not yearn for more?

Then another thought formed, born of the glimpse of power she had seen in her lover's stormy eyes. It had brought her both terror and a wild passionate longing to learn more of what it was he commanded, to find a way to look beyond the mortal form he had taken for her sake. For what she had seen could not be understood by a human mind, indeed she suspected that not even the other inhabitants of Olympus were aware of the influence their king wielded. That power could just as easily scorch and destroy even as it drew her ever closer out of curiosity and the need to possess and share in its exhilaration.

With an effort she dismissed that concern, banished it to the deepest recesses of her mind with thoughts born of reckless abandon and the growing fires of passion she gladly welcomed to consume her soul.

I don't care. Whatever comes of this I am prepared. I will endure whatever happens because I dared to follow ancient tradition and look beyond what was expected of royalty.

But even as she set about the task of selecting something to wear to the feast, the thought she had refused to consider once again filled her mind.

Even if all goes well for a time, how do I know that I won't share the fates of those other mortals he has chosen to love before me?

And what if the consequences of my choices lead me to destruction?


	12. Chapter 12 a question for my readers

Note from the authoress:

Unfortunately I won't be able to post an update to this story for a while, as my computer is being repaired and it has my notes for this story on the hard drive.

However I wanted to post a question for anyone following this tale. This story is based in part on the opera Semele written by Handel. Would anyone like me to post the link to the libretto on my profile?

There are two versions, for this story I am using the uncut one, but I can post them both if anyone is interested.

Let me know either way.

Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, I enjoy reading and answering every comment.


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